At that time
I was thinking something else
when you gave me a half-kiss,
my winter naked moon.
A souvenir left by sun
for the sake of night. I remembered
pink roses
unpetaling green thighs-
for quest of shelter in civil war
of reminiscences.Merciful was the landslide
which buried the whispers of
dead dreams.
Unpretending, unleaping, the ocean
sucks the grief of clouds. The
rains have started a dance
for the suicidal gods.
Satish Verma
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: November 2nd, 2011 23:09
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 51
- User favorite of this poem: Bokononsense.
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Comments1
I can't fault this poem! I'd love to leave some helpful feedback, but frankly I'm intimidated by its quality. It's so sweet and sorrowful, and creates such a beautiful sense of yearning in the reader. If I'm reading the themes correctly, the entwined motifs of natural beauty and remembered sensual love, and in particular the metaphors used, put me in mind of all the best qualities of Pablo Neruda, yet the poet's own voice remains clearly identifiable throughout. An absolute pleasure to read.
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