Satish Verma

Gold Star - 33,766 Points (5-6-1935)

The Sorcery - Poem by Satish Verma

I can do it, hold the wasp
in my palm― without grains
and short of fructose.

Layer by layer eggs
will leak― wetting
the vibrating stigma.

Neat abuses, will suck
the milk of nodding thistle.
No marrow comes out to save the elixir.

The hoofers, without
stirrups were running blindly
after the fallen apple.

The sage sways sadly
in the passive winds. It’s aroma
enters the stream of sex.

Topic(s) of this poem: poem


Comments about The Sorcery by Satish Verma

There is no comment submitted by members..



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


Poem Submitted: Monday, November 9, 2015



[Report Error]