THINNING, THINNING, THINNING, THINNING, THINNING, THINNING, THINNING

in Satish

Undating the memories 
in final push to cauldron, I said: 
let the words burn to ashes, 

in terminal journey, 
of eternal flight. 
You turn a blind eye to sun's venom. 

Moon, the blue baby in a casket 
rubbing the white clouds 
for a trek to intoxication. 

I ignore the opium field, 
to collect the bullets 
and bones of infants. 

Seeking peace in a simple 
shade of hymn. 
Perhaps stars are listening.

Satish Verma

--------------------------

THINNING

Undating the memories 
in final push to cauldron, I said: 
let the words burn to ashes, 

in terminal journey, 
of eternal flight. 
You turn a blind eye to sun's venom. 

Moon, the blue baby in a casket 
rubbing the white clouds 
for a trek to intoxication. 

I ignore the opium field, 
to collect the bullets 
and bones of infants. 

Seeking peace in a simple 
shade of hymn. 
Perhaps stars are listening.

Satish Verma

--------------------------

THINNING

Undating the memories 
in final push to cauldron, I said: 
let the words burn to ashes, 

in terminal journey, 
of eternal flight. 
You turn a blind eye to sun's venom. 

Moon, the blue baby in a casket 
rubbing the white clouds 
for a trek to intoxication. 

I ignore the opium field, 

to collect the bullets 
and bones of infants. 

Seeking peace in a simple 
shade of hymn. 
Perhaps stars are listening.

Satish Verma

--------------------------

THINNING

Undating the memories 
in final push to cauldron, I said: 
let the words burn to ashes, 

in terminal journey, 
of eternal flight. 
You turn a blind eye to sun's venom. 

Moon, the blue baby in a casket 
rubbing the white clouds 
for a trek to intoxication. 

I ignore the opium field, 
to collect the bullets 
and bones of infants. 

Seeking peace in a simple 
shade of hymn. 
Perhaps stars are listening.

Satish Verma

--------------------------

THINNING

Undating the memories 
in final push to cauldron, I said: 
let the words burn to ashes, 

in terminal journey, 
of eternal flight. 
You turn a blind eye to sun's venom. 

Moon, the blue baby in a casket 
rubbing the white clouds 
for a trek to intoxication. 

I ignore the opium field, 
to collect the bullets 
and bones of infants. 

Seeking peace in a simple 
shade of hymn. 
Perhaps stars are listening.

Satish Verma

--------------------------

THINNING

Undating the memories 
in final push to cauldron, I said: 
let the words burn to ashes, 

in terminal journey, 
of eternal flight. 
You turn a blind eye to sun's venom. 

Moon, the blue baby in a casket 
rubbing the white clouds 
for a trek to intoxication. 

I ignore the opium field, 
to collect the bullets 
and bones of infants. 

Seeking peace in a simple 
shade of hymn. 
Perhaps stars are listening.

Satish Verma

--------------------------

Author Box
Satish Verma has 1 articles online

Satish Verma is ferociously original. You feel resentment, outrage and violence, cannot pin it down but wonderfully spin your brain. Satish has the greatest sensibility which sweetly exploits the delicacies of human conflicts. His scions, doctors and engineers are living in USA. He chose to live back in his beloved country and resides in Ajmer (INDIA) with his spouse Kanta running the Charitable Holistic Institute of SEWA MANDIR FOUNDATION. He can also be reached at kantasatish@gmail.com. 5-A ii, Mayoor Colony, Alwar Gate, Ajmer – 305007 INDIA Mobile +91 9829071468

Add New Comment

THINNING, THINNING, THINNING, THINNING, THINNING, THINNING, THINNING

Log in or Create Account to post a comment.
     
*
*
Security Code: Captcha Image Change Image
This article was published on 2010/11/28