by Durlabh Singh
I have scanned the twilights
Lone stares for occupancy
To find certain regions
Of vacant possessions
The hands that refuse to hold
Eyes that refuse to behold
Some cracks within bones
The blood that circulates
In secret chambers of heart.
Call me from somewhere
Either from some distant stars
Or from their circulatory planets
I will go out with a sharp knife
To upturn the soils of compromise
There I may dig out naked agonies
Ready to burst in volcanic eruptions.
If I had some rugged claws
I will tear open the southern skies
Where I may find a muffled message
From outer limits of universal presence.
Copyright © 2004, Durlabh Singh
Durlabh Singh is a poet resident in London, England, and has been published widely in over 200 publications. He has published four books of his verse, the latest being Chrome Red (ISBN 1898030464).
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