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subject: GOLDEN LEAP, GOLDEN LEAP, GOLDEN LEAP, GOLDEN LEAP, GOLDEN LEAP, GOLDEN LEAP [print this page]

GOLDEN LEAP, GOLDEN LEAP, GOLDEN LEAP, GOLDEN LEAP, GOLDEN LEAP, GOLDEN LEAP

GOLDEN LEAP

at cremation ground

the flames were creating

strange words

he stood still, in void, between unfenced tears

there was no need to question the answers,

kicking up the history, of crossing the bridge

over the river of annihilation

of self, making a gift of forked tongue

of cobra, spiteful, as an old virgin

it was over without thinking, scribbling

on the margin, his name in different inks

a young smell floats an funny rocks of

events and the fish swims in eyes of dead

foetus in womb, with unclenched fists

Satish Verma

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