poet Satish Verma

Satish Verma

* The Dead Tiger

the hunt begins after sunset
under cracked moon, blindfolded clouds
start visiting volitionlessly:

the nesting eagles, I choose
this bitter absurdity of large wings
under the sun, where they will announce the shade,

a lonely patch of life, of signature
kill of future, the metamorphosis of a street
into unending wait;

undress the sleeping lion
of combat fatigue, his brain splattered,
the dreams moved like tectonic plates




* On seeing the body of Vellupillai Prabhakaran

Poem Submitted: Friday, July 24, 2009

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Comments about * The Dead Tiger by Satish Verma

  • Rajnish MangaRajnish Manga (8/26/2018 12:59:00 AM)

    A very thoughtful observation. Thanks.

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  • Puspanjali SahuPuspanjali Sahu (6/25/2016 11:18:00 PM)

    do not know what to say...mesmerizing

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  • Indranil BhaduriIndranil Bhaduri (10/16/2012 8:43:00 AM)

    Mindblowing sir... Short of words to comment...

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  • Yacov Mitchenko (12/25/2009 8:47:00 AM)

    Striking imagery here.

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  • Catrina Heart (7/24/2009 11:01:00 PM)

    the nesting eagles, I choose
    this bitter absurdity of large wings
    under the sun, where they will announce the shade,

    a lonely patch of life, of signature
    kill of future, the metamorphosis of a street
    into unending wait;
    -----
    powerful words great imagery painted! ! ! 10+++

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    3 person liked.
    0 person did not like.



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