Satish Verma

Gold Star - 43,567 Points (5-6-1935)

The Rarest Thing - Poem by Satish Verma

The night watchman
has become an etcher.

The stoning of the shirt
must stop. These moments were the
real sinners/beating the moon.
A simple story becomes an epic.

The belly buttons start
stammering. Meaning did not take a bath.

Canaries have gone on a strike.
They will not sing on the edge of night.

An oil painting walks out of the canvas―
to become a parable.
The creator of this art
was done.

Topic(s) of this poem: poem

Comments about The Rarest Thing by Satish Verma

  • Shakil Ahmed (12/5/2015 8:11:00 AM)

    lovely poem, the poem is composed with beautiful words and images, thanks for sharing (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, December 5, 2015

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