Satish Verma

Gold Star - 42,364 Points (5-6-1935)

Stripping To The Bones - Poem by Satish Verma

Now me, now not,
a thought is always there.
My genes navigate on collapsing walls,
words, dark mind, broken dreams.
But thought is always there.
I hold on firmly to sounds,
voices, tongues,
the thought is always there.

Brain goes into a nameless friction,
of aimless voyage
I rediscover the myth and abandon the zone of thoughts.
Distance becomes a wailing music.
Sitting between the flesh and bones
I recognise the relic of a window.

Let us dropp the years,
become timeless, empty and hollow.
Egocentric wind violates the lungs.
We cannot sing in praise of earth.
I walk through the body,
stripping to the bones, to find the seeds.
I refuse to pluck the flowers.

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, November 11, 2007

Poem Edited: Sunday, April 24, 2011

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