WOUNDED DANCE

satishverma

A rock becomes a philosopher. 
Refuses to move 
looking at the stars. 

Rogue shirts were walking 
on the clouds of unknowing. 
I wanted to remove all the clocks. 

Who was stealing the water? 
Secret of life? Impiety had 
undone the pillars of random love. 

Ashes volcanic or of tears enter 
the pores of consciousness. 
The screams wake up the dark blood. 

A naked doll pelts the grey eyes 
on the blood sucking story. 
A dark tunnel opens in street.

Satish Verma

  • Author: satishverma (Offline Offline)
  • Published: April 18th, 2011 05:17
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 9
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry and subscribe to My Poetic Side ↓

Receive the ebook in seconds 50 poems from 50 different authors Weekly news



To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.