Picking Strange Thoughts

Satish Verma

You may go around the world

to touch the moon.

Rocks will beat the power

of dust to take revenge.


My poems were shrinking.

The roses still bloom.

Between the words

and meaning, moon weeps.


Mutually I wanted to

share the meaningless pranks.

Life always betrays the death.

I die daily.


What was your awareness,

when you smell the breath of

an everlasting pain?

Does the god become a human?