Poetry

Satish Verma


older other poems newer

14 january 2021

Do Not Throw The Stones

Living in a wax palace
and deliberately―
firing it.

The beseeching fault
of life. It demands pure
blood.

Self-consciously I
pick up the glossy cowries,
with beautiful patterns
and play my childhood.

How come, the style
remains the same as that
of a butcher or a saint?

The humiliating defeat
in the hands of a dirty character―
becoming a class.

The cradle rocks. A new―
born theme is thrown out.






Report this item

 


Terms of use | Privacy policy

Copyright © 2010 truml.com, by using this service you accept terms of use.


You have to be logged in to use this feature. please register

Ta strona używa plików cookie w celu usprawnienia i ułatwienia dostępu do serwisu oraz prowadzenia danych statystycznych. Dalsze korzystanie z tej witryny oznacza akceptację tego stanu rzeczy.    Polityka Prywatności   
ROZUMIEM
1