Poetry

Watching the wilting dividers,
wanted to declock the time
in timeless death:
though life must move on.
After amputation, body waits to be lifted,
negating the bed.
Now it was time, which would you like,
nouns that hurt?
Or verbs that heal?

After stepping down
from my self
said the star, I have become
a black moon. Three bombs went off
within three minutes. Was it a Mendelson’s
syndrome after general anaesthesia?
The chemical god wanted to distemper
a flock of sheep. God
save the earth.


Satish Verma