The Whiskey Taster’s Flavor Guide

Lifes Toast

Difficult it becomes, the secret of
the judgement and metamorphosis of
the painted cotton into a stained truth.

To save the present tense. A dangerous
crowd of vowels to express the incomplete
moment of watery teeth,

so hung, while misspeaking painfully
in dyslexic manneo. I would not
understand the hour-glass proxy.

An undersized leash to walk
with a giant: the magnitude of tragedy
overwhelms the path !


SATISH VERMA
Copyright © | Year Posted 2011

Poem

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Goff Avatar
January 22, 2011 at 7:58 AM
good morning, Satish, once more, your work is an example of why I continue at the soup....unreal good art!...this poem, which leaps like "Neruda" has sent my imagination to a thousand places in four-stanza's.....but most of all, time absolutely stood-still....as I immersed in such wonder! & your last stanza.....whooooshhhh!!!! to my faves!!! jimbo
Brown Avatar
January 18, 2011 at 8:25 AM
Good morning and thank you for sharing your poetry Satish. It was a pleasure to read your amazing poetry today and I hope you will continue to write always. The best to you in your writing endeavors whatever they may be in 2011. Love, Carol
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The Whiskey Taster’s Flavor Guide
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace