A Secret Self

Every night this body
becomes a dissecting knife

a crime scene of blood
and unstrung flesh,

the lamb spreads the wool
for a deadly charge of skull plate

with a gift of mathematics
a moon cutout in sky

before the shadow of myth in the depth
of tortured chemistry:

the endless nothing will kiss the darkness
my blindness becomes a diet.

Rate the poem
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (1 votes, average: 3.00 out of 5)
We are posting your rating...

Have something to say about the poem?

Profile photo of Satish Verma

Satish Verma

Signup / Login to follow the poet.
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. You are taken aback. This is magic, profoundly soulful. In a lone, long journey Satish Verma is still discovering himself. Beaten, betrayed, felled, he comes back with fierce velocity. His childhood was traumatized by India’s partition. Terror, violence and death were witnessed which built the morals of poet. Becoming defiantly recluse Satish Verma pursued his value based life on the path of truth. Teaching Botany for 35 years he was writing poetry, privately and solemnly and published twelve collections. Worked silently with social causes. 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
Poems you will love

Give your feedback / review for the poem

Be the First to Comment & Review poem!

Notify of
avatar
wpDiscuz

Uncharted Self

Uncharted Self short poem

Do not go like a rose, stay like poinsettia. Now as a brutal encounter holy color will descend. Polygonal wound was too proud to bleed on the street. The scarlet morning will bring night’s blood. And mystery of love between

The Secret Of A King

The Secret Of A King ballad

I heard sweet voices sing Fragrance of wild flowers in spring A thrown of gold for a King To watch His courtier dance and sing The Queen sits by His side Watching the fair maidens Trying to steal Her pride

The Sullied Self

The Sullied Self long poem

It is night again, And the darkness wakes it all up. Rooms left to collect, the dust of Fault and dissent, and the Forgotten madness of bygone days. We have created so much with nothing, And done nothing with so

Little Secret

Little Secret short poem

Ssshh. Don’t let anyone hear you. Don’t tell anyone about it. It’ll be our little secret My friends can’t know. Turned into they know we are fucking not that we are together. I’m just not ready yet. Can it be

The Sullied Self

The Sullied Self long poem

It is night again, And the darkness wakes it all up. Rooms left to collect, the dust of Fault and dissent, and the Forgotten madness of bygone days. We have created so much with nothing, And done nothing with so