poetry

poetry
Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 21 december 2019

For Heaven's Sake

In shreds,
the day has passed.
At night, I will touch;
the unasked questions.
 
You were sending, the
soap bubbles, like
swans carrying the messages.
 
The weather changes. A
fantasy becomes real.
The moon has missed the night.
 
Like the Morse code, there was
a flurry of taps, the
blank paper flies for a rite.
 
It is dawn, breasted and melting.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 20 december 2019

Tall Slogans

A futile attempt to go
for a collection spree.
You got only the numbers.
 
It had to happen. The drums were beating.
 
The minority suffers
in the hands of many gods.
 
Between the black
and white, will it be last battle?
 
Temples were asked to
give the details of divine―
winds and the red moons.
 
There was a spiritual conflict,
without giving any purpose.
You cannot dissect
my poems.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 19 december 2019

The Ire

Encrypting the cause―
of death. Why do you
truss up the statement?
 
Tell me, whom you were
punishing, accepting
the legitimacy of lies?
 
 
Anything would happen
to the author,
who was writing a diary
on the fallen saint.
 
The palace fumes. There
was an extraordinary delay
in execution of
fire spoons.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 18 december 2019

From The End

Hard and brittle,
the cost of sealing the lips
was increasing overnight.
 
Cleaving the thoughts―
you would not tell,
what do you believe.
 
I watch in horror. A
planned trajectory has
failed, shielding the tears.
 
A furore rises. Half―
humans were fighting
with stones.
 
It will talk, one day
the agony of deathmask,
you did not want to wear.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 17 december 2019

Reclaiming The Legacy

A shut door
without a house
would not open, would not open.
 
An unsealed house
without a door
will not invite.
 
The irony of knocks overcomes the visitor.
 
And why would,
you walk in the
doorway without reaching
anywhere.
 
A divided world
moves towards a diminished―
family.


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RENATA

RENATA, 16 december 2019

w pogoni za szczęściem oddam portmonetkę

bądż
moim natchnieniem 
oczu odcieniem
serca odbiciem 
uszu zachwytem 
  życiem

zmysłów powiewem
marzeniem 

a Ty liczysz dni 
czułe słówka szepczesz mi 
i płaczesz i jęczysz i coś cię dręczy
bieda żyć ci nie da 
wyciągasz rękę po mój chleb

choć wiem 
że nie dla mnie z tobą raj
daję gdy mówisz daj 
obietnicami ścielesz chwil parę
odchodzisz wreszcie zostawiasz ranę

a ja z wielkim bólem
składam złamane serce
minus na koncie jak stąd do Rzymu
lecz ja z rozpaczą wybaczam jeszcze 

wołam wróć
ja cię wezmę 
co za głupia krowa 
myśli ten i ów ludź

a ty poszłeś w diabły
sny o szczęściu
poszły w niepamięć 
po latach mówię 
byłeś mą klątwą 
chamie




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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 16 december 2019

Some Snippets

A sleepwalker gives up
a snake,
inside the sleeves.
The dog outruns
the moon.
 
*
 
You draw a blue line
around the summer night.
Flames.
I will drive out
the ghosts.
 
*
 
The acid attack
went for the thatch.
You will snorkel now,
under the reeds.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 15 december 2019

Quick Snatches

Lesser evil of a god
will preside over
the verdict. There was
a sexual assault
in the temple.
 
*
 
If you have an eye, you
will you find a
naked king,
riding on a
golden horse.
 
*
 
Friends. It is time,
that will give
you a slip.
Beware of the
dark sentry.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 14 december 2019

Echos In September

Under a sickle moon,
the effect was colossal.
The mute words
were floating like vespae.
 
There was no―
promised nest of paper.
You cannot land
without ink.
 
The grey beard starts
weaving a web of
lies. Larvae will―
feed on blessed water.
 
Very warm, very hollow.
The globe turns. You stand
on the surface,
cannot fathom out the human mind.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 13 december 2019

What September

Ceaselessly,
the September moon
was sending poems
in quick succession.
 
Life had come to a grinding halt.
 
The walls,
wait to end the race of
stings. The heat was
a dirty yellow.
 
You will witness the fall of a titan.
 
The genome of red
wine grape was
similar to a forgotten
verse, after the―
 
rage of ageing cells of a sage.


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