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Theme: Life Share This Page
Tarantula
by Satish Verma
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  Do you need a sanitizer for contaminated hands?
They were busy in illustrating the ugly contours of life.
Up and down you were out of joint,
and your feet were not fastened to the ground.
Untainted a shrill voice prepares to rise
from the sullen men huddled on the floor,
for the sad demise of a grand master.
The green truth was nowhere to be seen.
People are getting down for a feast
to invoke peace for the departed soul.
I am miserable, cannot blast the fake ceremony.
Year after year the doomed city
performs a ritual for the coronation of a new king.
The sky is divided by domes, towers, minarets and tall turrets.
Cannot see the moon clearly at night
I reject the old abstractions
draw the ink from the blood and paint a tarantula.
 
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June 20, 2012
More By: Satish Verma
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