Striving Hard Poem by Satish Verma
Striving Hard
Like inky jet,
ejected on white paper,
the cuttlefish
of a poet―
was warding off the
unseen enemy.
The dry flattened
chest, would remind you
of a chalky desert.
Only cacti grow there.
You go into a trance,
then convulsive seizures, with
a loud scream. You
invoke the toddler god
who would kill king cobra
fifteen feet long.
Thursday, August 18, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: poem
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4/24/2024 10:01:35 AM # 1.0.0.1119
