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Wearing a Talisman
Folder:
Satish Verma A candle burns in the
eyes. It is my quivering poem. A broken
sun. Will give you a gift of the moon.
Covered with flames. You
will become a comet. Ice, rocks, dust and
the water. You will weep without tears.
Are you everything? Blue
berries are blooming. I converse with
flowers of wilting roses.
If I had the academic
If I had the academic qualifications to teach Poetry on an undergrad level---I mean, to teach the practical composition of Poetry (rather than simply doing readings of ancient Poets and such)---I would want to use your texts as examples; yours, and the work of one other Poet on this site, as the primary ways a young, aspiring poet should approach the craft.
Starward