Satish Verma

Gold Star - 52,547 Points (5-6-1935)

Untitled - Poem by Satish Verma

The triangle―
right-angled. Pythagorean
I would never find the center.

An absence gnaws
at me. Standing in dark
I start a talkathon with walls.

Stoically, I reverse
the numbers. Fires start.
I am still reading the page,
started before I met you.

The poise, the serenity
are gone. Masks are coming off
there and now I embrace the burning well.

Bliss of looking back
at unreached peaks of pain.
It is very cold.
Now ice will not melt.
You know who bled my poems.

Topic(s) of this poem: poem

Comments about Untitled by Satish Verma

  • (9/14/2016 11:40:00 PM)

    Bliss of looking back
    at unreached peaks of pain.
    Great imagery. Thanks for sharing.

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, September 14, 2016

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