O Love

You tend to ostracize the apparition
setting the real culprit free. It does not matter
to pretend now, a damaged house
has become a burden.

Who was playing the enmity card ?
Hammered, eyes wide open I start documenting
the deceit of a parrot flower. Your past
had become the shackles, not the road map
of family.

An enormous hate was buried in your trees.
O death-trap, the bees will not come to your
flowers. Your gifts are lying around me
unattended. I will ask no more any pardon.

The moon has walked away. My sky
was unanswerable. The theater will play
another star-crossed brand names.



Satish Verma
Copyright © | Year Posted 2009

Poem

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Lokken Avatar
December 26, 2009 at 10:03 AM
This is how I feel sometimes- after my beloved shattered my heart. Nevertheless, this is so breath-takingly beautiful. Your gift is astonishing. Best wishes, Sara
Dufresne Avatar
December 26, 2009 at 8:50 AM
much metaphor and simile in this wounded write. Well done Satish. --_Robert
Nutter Avatar
December 26, 2009 at 4:41 AM
This poem speaks to me saying your feelings and posssibly others have been poisened toward this individual. "Gifts unattended" "Bees will not come to your flowers" Very creative write.
Kendrick Avatar
December 26, 2009 at 3:54 AM
Interesting thoughts put to pen. Second stanza like the line "Your gifts are lying around me unattended". Don't exactly know what you mean by the lines but I could go several ways with it. Sara
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