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Theme: Life Share This Page
Descending
by Satish Verma
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  I make ready myself for an insult 
and chest pain, keeping unshorn hair like nettles 
on contours, to take unknown turns for restoring 
the clouds on moon-blue hills, spreading the water colors 
on trees; someone inside the shrine was making 
turbulence: yellow room has the footprints of 
a naked fakir, after the apocalypse, who walked eyes closed 
on the burning ghats, his rags are now worshipped, 
the later years found the darkness 
glowing in the furnace of propped up body 
by roses, roses all the way, he tells the 
hanging man, how tall were the poles, with song
.
February 11 ,2011
More by :  Satish Verma
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    Buddhism     Business     Cartoons     CC++     Cinema     Computing Articles
    Culture     Dances     Education     Environment     Family Matters     Festivals
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    Love Letters     Memoirs     Musings     My Word     Networking     Opinion
    Parenting     People     Perspective     Photo Essays     Places     PlainSpeak
    Quotes     Ramblings     Random Thoughts     Recipes     Sikhism     Society
    Spirituality     Stories     Teens     Travelogues     Vastu     Vithika
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