One Silver Bowl


Will you save me
when I take the call of the lake?
The swishing depth was inviting me
for a plunge in the purple pool.

How deep was the pain of a mountain?
The domain was again ailing
with subtle rumors of
a massive landslide.

An escaped love of a thorn
was splitting open the embrace
of me and my mask. Totally denuded,
a face was dusting off all the self-made
marks of inflictions.

Will you walk with me now
up to the stormy night, where I have
a house of candles keeping a vigil
for a coffin of unflowered seeds?

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

Silver Trails

Silver Trails short poem

By the moon I drink you again. The night is trembling; ruffles the colossal tears. The terrible ache of the illegitimate mercy. I am not accepting any poem half-dead under my pen. The invisible force, bribing the tears was a

One Last Stain

One Last Stain sonnet poems

One last drop of sorrow just whispered to me When all this time I have been so hollow I smelled a poison,that you could never see And the clouds just blurred my way to follow Still I could not find

One Last Stain

One Last Stain sonnet poems

One last drop of sorrow just whispered to me When all this time I have been so hollow I smelled a poison,that you could never see And the clouds just blurred my way to follow Still I could not find

No One Could Save Her- Nirbhaya (delhi Rape Case 2012)

No One Could Save Her  Nirbhaya (delhi Rape Case 2012) long poem

In the soul of the city, the four wheels, the scream for pity. Mercy screamed louder than her voice. Little girls sleeping promised with their toys. Not even one, the strong, the brave, the soldier, the slave. No one could

My Little One

My Little One short poem

From my late night reads , To our play .. You were there , Little devil … With that gleam in your eyes And sound of your whistle . My closest buddy in animals disguise, I talked , you listened