Raging Spring

Raging Spring short poem

Photo by Bernt Rostad

Siblings
will take care of the morgue.
I am going to hang my god
today. Howling winds
are crashing into my breath.

In the sea
of flags, the white death walks on
naked bodies of faith. Innocence
will take a back seat
listening to the roaring assault
of blues.

Was it a hymn to drink
the religion of rage?
The men sitting in the glass vases
worshiping the rising sun in awe
with folded hands.

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

My Awaited Spring

My Awaited Spring sonnet poems

I have witnessed your tears where autumn has grown Down into the dark deeps of your bantam eyes Final leaf was left behind when all we’re gone When Frost breeze have sing your last night’s cry Black outlined eyes of

Syrian Spring

Syrian Spring long poem

Syrian I am, Not by breed, but as a human I see spring so colorless and dull, yet dreamy red! And I dream this dream with all its dread In day and night Or even in sleep and fight: A

Is It Winter Or Spring?

Is It Winter Or Spring? short poem

Gone are the days when we Used to ask winter to go away With the hope that spring will Come and stay. Instead, we are now on our knees Praying to spring asking it to go Because even the sun

Raging Surf

Raging  Surf short poem

Sea sand wind and rain all will be gurgling in pain whence it has arisen in noises surfing waves alighting high and low above the ravines careless and moody lushing and slushing movements of waves for only surfing Pale is

Song Of Spring

Song Of Spring short poem

Today I heard a robin sing Heralding the coming spring A song of exultation to the sky An ode to earth’s awakening I saw a willow on the hill It’s branches greening in the sun And all the earth seemed