Satish Verma

Gold Star - 53,919 Points (5-6-1935)

Countdown - Poem by Satish Verma

Are you genuine, I ask?
Your face, a stone wall,
I had been bruising my psyche against it.
I have no strength to bury myself alive,
in the mass grave of lies.

An ancient fear
descends from the hill.
Wants to marry a tree.
Or worship the terror
of a diaspora.

The vultures are dying every day,
We were talking of pregnancy,
desire and death.

The sparrows are gone.
Heat is rising.
I am starting the countdown.


Comments about Countdown by Satish Verma

  • Lantz Pierre (2/2/2017 4:03:00 AM)

    The wild starling is silent. Every feather has been numbered. Every branch predicted by a theory of quantum proportions. But the rain would not listen, pulled down its pants and masturbated without passion and without shame. (Report)Reply

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  • (10/14/2007 12:38:00 AM)

    better, actually. intriguing & perplexing. keep on, sjg (Report)Reply

    0 person liked.
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Poem Submitted: Saturday, October 13, 2007

Poem Edited: Saturday, April 16, 2011


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