A LOVE AND HATE STORY

I was learning, how
not to catch you.

Called the cloud
hugging a hillside.
Can you climb on the road?
No, it said, I want to play with the moon.

So,
this was becoming,
without presence.
An epiphany? No it was a crying
theme, discovery of the self.

When the tremors came,
you were flung like a doll,
opening the earth
one breath long.

Swallows were eyeing the sky.


•

The hollow tree
traps the light and sends out
the blue pupils of yellow eyes.

I am still counting the limbs
under the boulders.
The landmass was moving asking names.

The big vulture was watching
the end of the feast,
for schizophrenics.

A bomb hidden in turban will
kill a saint. You say I should
call for the girls.

Why don't you wear the skullcap
to cover the beautiful mind
which will not kiss the fire?

Satish Verma