Finally Injured Poem by Satish Verma
Finally Injured
What you did not know
was the resilience
of tulips.
The riots start
in colors, earnestly. A violent
outburst of the theme of surrender
before dawn.
You kiss the irises,
blue, violet and crimson
for nominalism.
The vision emboldens―
the wounds, the slit throats―
to come again for guillotine.
A sliding blade
with promise to kill,
will not move.
Sunday, September 18, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: poem
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5/14/2024 12:24:18 AM # 1.0.0.1119
