Satish Verma

Gold Star - 54,427 Points (5-6-1935)

God Was Bleeding - Poem by Satish Verma

And now the pain wants me to speak,
the words, but I wanted to listen
like winds and keep back the thoughts.

I refused to move from the scene.
God was bleeding
and his dolls were strewn around
on marble floor
broken, dismembered.

No tree was safe now.
The sky had cracked,
off the light. I cannot reach.

The dark thing shoves in,
from a precipice, I am falling,
The pomegranate blossoms?
Where are they?

I am not afraid of a terrorist.
I fear more of the shape
of the humanoid eyes
they are red, very red!

Listen to this poem:

Comments about God Was Bleeding by Satish Verma

  • Lantz Pierre (2/1/2017 4:33:00 AM)

    Plunging past the electrified semaphores of Broadway, descending breakneck towards drama and the laughs that only violence knows. Brakes fail with the heat of friction overcoming the insouciant dream of genitals waving in the breeze. Please, I'm only holding rings of gold. (Report)Reply

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
Read all 1 comments »

Langston Hughes


Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Poem Submitted: Friday, October 12, 2007

Poem Edited: Saturday, April 16, 2011

[Report Error]