Polka Dots

a poem by Satish Verma, India

We are afraid of each
other. You start packing
your majolica wares to move out
swiftly, not to return back.

The floor was dirty.
I walk barefoot on the sharp edges.
To ask the matriarch of pains-
mother earth, how long the
man should suffer?

A woodcutter does not
want to pursue his art. He
throws his axe far away and
starts meditating.

So much violence in our
lives. You slay a traveler
for telling his mind.

You were becoming jealous
of yourself. Start throwing
pepper in the eyes of moon.

Top Viewed Peace Poems & Top Viewed Poems

Other poems from Satish Verma, India

If you like this poem, post a message below to the poet!


Viewed 39 times

VoicesNet Likes