Satish Verma Poet I do not know?

Conferred Guilt

A felled tear reflects the rainbow.
I wait for the night.
Moon had promised an audience.

Yes, I will sit beside the moon,
will tell the woes of earth, uncomplaining:
the heat, the dust, the life needles

and expressionless faces of trembling
angels. The heroes were disrobing and
attacking the pyramids of undoing.

I sweat and reel in chilly mornings.
A primitive instinct takes over the
nightmare. The spoons become the swords.


SATISH VERMA

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Sara Lokken March 24, 2010 at 1:12 PM "expressionless faces of trembling angels" oh, yes.... "I sweat and reel in chilly mornings".... "The spoons become the swords" Satish! You are a genius! :)

Carol Sunshine Brown March 20, 2010 at 5:23 PM I enjoyed reading your poetry and I wish you a wonderful weekend filled with love and inspiration Satish. Love, Carol

Carolyn Devonshire March 20, 2010 at 10:47 AM A compelling poem, Satish. Especially enjoyed the line about the spoons becoming swords. Speaks of the confusion between reality and dreams so well! Love, Carolyn

Bathsheba Bathsheba March 20, 2010 at 5:16 AM "the pyramids of undoing" is some line - I like this write a lot Satish - A fab share -:)