Small Talk Poem by Satish Verma

Small Talk



Surge in hidden chastity
enters the torch but the enemy
was within.

Brown clouds over the black carbon,
glaciers were melting;
the assault rifle stands alone in snow.

This was not ignorance,
a purposeful denial of white truce
in the jungle of lizards.

I would go where nobody wants
to tread in night. The hanging years
of marriage gone wrong.

O my God, tiger at the door,
demanding a new babe every moon.
The flesh will extract its own blood.


Satish Verma

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Rafique Farooqi 22 November 2009

a beautiful abstract poem

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Catrina Heart 22 November 2009

such a profound yet emotive piece............your poems bedazzle me always! ! !

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