satish verma has not received any gifts yet
Talking of nameless and unhappy death
I resume the pathos of recluse
if not, what do I do after the sunset?
The shadow themes are picking up
and I am saying, 'No, I cannot do it,
may not do it, will not do it.'
I have been a drifter, did not grow roots
between the desire and wish. I had been
hopping from a thing to…
Remember it not.
Let it slide into cave.
The annual rings of old wood are
Tree of life burning inside.
It cannot happen
it can happen.
There is no certainty.
this is certainty.
Bread with hoofs
no butter, no udder
Shared my solitude, gave me comfort,
the road, my prelude to a long journey
moved with me.
Sensual saints had a break midway
bolting the stars, when bruised arms
were building the shelter.
An offering to genius was not accepted
cold blooded murder of a dream.
Overnight my hair turned white
a genuine tale was…
Into the dark enters the blue;
a homeless song punctures the cloud:
gentle grass was never so green.
The colors start fading
there was no other movement. Sun strides in.
No going, no coming of pain. No propitiatory
prayer of mine or yours.
I seek the wisdom of a tree.
Like hawthorn collecting the wish rags