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THE GLASS HOUSE

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English Poetry

Not yet, the courage will wait
for the curtain to fall,
will then disappear in awakening;

the crucial thing
was the love of absence
the scythe of eclipsed moon.

Suspense hangs from the tall image
in slow turn of thighs
lips reach the galaxies:

the first cry of new born
pleads guilty,
whispers will never be the same.

My fault, the animal’s feet
carry the burden of the straw,
words brought the grief.

In a triangular fight
my son, my god, my father:
I stand in the center!

Satish Verma

3 Comments

  1. dp says:

    beauty.. sir ji 🙂

  2. Gion Gion says:

    “My fault, the animal’s feet
    carry the burden of the straw,
    words brought the grief.” – A good re-work of this image(the straw that broke the camel’s back),
    Gion

  3. Gion Gion says:

    “In a triangular fight
    my son, my god, my father:
    I stand in the center!” – there is a strange familiarity here in this imagery,
    Gion

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