Treasure Island

Satish Verma

(5-6-1935)

BIRTH UNTAINTED


It in now dark.
Talking of exposed genitalia
I go into a terrible shock.

A compulsive deceit
takes hold of the attention.
The candle burns me inside.

Between eyes
a *chakra uncoils, like a Naja.
Strikes! You are stricken-


with a bulbar palsy.
No haemorrhage. A purple venom
spreads in the whole nativism.

Voices move in half-lit corridor.
The doors do not lead to rooms.
All exits disappear.

A chandelier crashes. You
are awakened from a deep slumber.
A poem is born.

Submitted: Tuesday, April 23, 2013
Edited: Friday, September 27, 2013

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