This was the abduction of god.
You were shedding your plumage.
My Ars Poetica is showing the nude moon.
Visiting Lesbos once, you
filled the heat in your hands. You called
to murder the most innocent.
Sylvia Plath was broken.
The pungent smell was coming from
burning verses. You never asked for the blood game.
YOU ARE READING
Satish Verma Poems
PoetrySatish Verma is ferociously original. You feel resentment, outrage and violence, cannot pin it down but wonderfully spin your brain. Satish has the greatest sensibility which sweetly exploits the delicacies of human conflicts. You are taken aback. T...