TROUBLED TIMES

a poem by Satish Verma, India

Visual hallucination, virtue,
genome of neolithic corpus.
Confusion comes, visualization,
bushfire burning with a roar.
Hurts the eyes, enslaves eventually.
Who decides the shape, belly, scoliosis, or squint?
Rebirth of an icon from churning life. Scarring
beyond recognition. Psyche playing
a duplicate?

That hauteur hara-kiri
haemophiliac connectivity, a spark compromising
discreetingly, let flows the blood. Eternal
deception, anguish and despair, Poster boys
basking in glory. Unquenched libido. Lips
swollen. Catching my lines, hanging valleys, surface
to surface missiles. A rainbow snaps in eyes.

The hired salvation, strips you to dry bone.
Space and time in net, between perception
and disintegration. Cold truth and warm lies.
End of view from the peak, strangulated
nimbus. Tall and denuded poles
falling nonchalantly.


SATISH VERMA

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