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TRACKING DOWN
Folder:
Satish Verma White lotus at red feet:
we will start self-infliction
explicating
with regrets.
After a rough night
the day was weeping.
From where the bread will
come, when you were playing
with a golden spoon.
This morning I again
dig a hole in heart.
Was the Mayan calender right?
Why the sun is playing slow music?
I am coming nearer
to a locked god.
Your Imagery...
I've actually read a few of your poems and I love your imagery. You don't just tell a story; you place your words in such a manner that it draws the reader in (no matter how dark the subject matter).