*On 100th Birthday of Alan Turing
Why were you collecting the
people all around?
Unsure of yourself on the
ambiguity of an inquest?
I remained unhappy my
whole life and left the
bed after chemical-castration,
In hindsight inside the
nightmare room, what was
left to imagination? The
Hold my hand. I am coming
with you, to settle
my account with god, for
creating people of this type.
The purple spillage 24 June 2012
was ready to play with-
fire, for estranged lover,
inventing a fake enemy.
What if I die again and
again for you.
It begs the identity of a
black moon, perhaps to reflect
the stuttering homophobia.
Crossing the time zones, searching
the old snow, in the cracks of
volcanic rocks, you kiss a clove bud.
In anger, I receive your ashes,
when it was raining blue.
A baby died in a crib, unattended.
*Code breaking genius, founder of computer science, who allegedly committed suicide on 7th June 1954.
Satish Verma's Other Poems
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