* The Dead Tiger

the hunt begins after sunset
under cracked moon, blindfolded clouds
start visiting volitionlessly:

the nesting eagles, I choose
this bitter absurdity of large wings
under the sun, where they will announce the shade,

a lonely patch of life, of signature
kill of future, the metamorphosis of a street
into unending wait;

undress the sleeping lion
of combat fatigue, his brain splattered,
the dreams moved like tectonic plates




* On seeing the body of Vellupillai Prabhakaran

by Satish Verma

Other poems of VERMA (4518)

Comments (5)

A very thoughtful observation. Thanks.
do not know what to say...mesmerizing
Mindblowing sir... Short of words to comment...
Striking imagery here.
the nesting eagles, I choose this bitter absurdity of large wings under the sun, where they will announce the shade, a lonely patch of life, of signature kill of future, the metamorphosis of a street into unending wait; ----- powerful words great imagery painted! ! ! 10+++