Crazy Thoughts Poem by Satish Verma
Crazy Thoughts
A blighted ovum
demands a ransom for life.
Unhinged, you rub with―
the command and
set free a poem.
Some very visceral fears
hold your hand and
ask to write an epitaph
of yourself.
Unboiling the egg in
irreverent manner, you
proceed to make death,
out of eternal entangled questions.
The sheer stress unmakes
you into a creator
and you begin to spawn
a new religion of violence.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/6/2024 4:53:49 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Where there is no light you find only red, dark and nourishing. Somnolent red with the softness of sleep. Downy, inviting, rich and luxurious. A red like a valentine, made of love. Made of innocence on the surface and deep down of illicit transcendence.