Kindled Night by Satish Verma SignUp
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Theme: Life Share This Page
Kindled Night
by Satish Verma
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Put off the lantern.
I am waiting for the moon’s
primal face. The lesser flamingos
were going to shed the pink color.

Nude as a python, the kiss
of pomegranates, kills by asphyxiation.
I suffer in the hands of protests.
The black ice now enters the eye of a needle.

A barefoot noun feeds the junta.
The butter babies will serve the poetry
of poor on the mats of principles.
I will remain unslept on straw.

A newspaper eats the story this side.
After the bloodbath surgeons weep.
An armless lover hugs a priest
for not calling the gods. 

Share This:
December 02, 2012
More By: Satish Verma
Views: 828      Comments: 0




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