Are you genuine, I ask ?
Your face, a stone wall,
I had been bruising my psyche against it.
I have no strength to bury myself alive,
in the mass grave of lies.
An ancient fear
descends from the hill.
Wants to marry a tree.
Or worship the terror
of a diaspora.
The vultures are dying every day,
We were talking of pregnancy,
desire and death.
The sparrows are gone.
Heat is rising.
I am starting the countdown.
SATISH VERMA
Added: on Friday, June 13th, 2008 at 9:04 am | Viewed: 39 times, 1 so far today | Comments (1)
Very apocalyptic, Satish. The imagery is stunningly and darkly beautiful, and the “countdown” really drives the power of the meaning home. Excellent work!
Art
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Poem Info
Poet:satishverma Poem:COUNTDOWN Viewed: 39 times, 1 so far today Added: on Friday, June 13th, 2008 at 9:04 am
Comments (1)
June 13th, 2008 at 9:23 am
Very apocalyptic, Satish. The imagery is stunningly and darkly beautiful, and the “countdown” really drives the power of the meaning home. Excellent work!
Art