Satish Verma

Gold Star - 44,131 Points (5-6-1935)

Trampling - Poem by Satish Verma

It was happening.
It was a perverse state,
one by one we were tearing apart,
our wholeness, our human heritage.

A distorted image of beautiful order.
We went assembling the torn limbs.
Each desire was sutured
like a wound, to become a scar.
It was a collective grief of history.

Abrasion of ‘me’, grotesquely
disfigures the face
of soft weightless peace.
Love has never been the same.
The little things have become
enormous ghosts trampling our senses.
Ugly scrawls are scaring.


Comments about Trampling by Satish Verma

  • (11/10/2007 11:41:00 AM)


    scaring or scarring? ..it's time to put a spring back in the depleted step; put some air back in the trampled chute. Or is it more beautiful this way... (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, November 7, 2007

Poem Edited: Saturday, April 23, 2011


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