poetry

poetry
Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 28 september 2020

Traveling Constantly

Again I have come back
in the crowd of fakes,
to understand the nature
of dark.

The questions have become
my beacons, I am prodding deep
to stumble on the temper,
ethos of white lies.

You will not take your own
life now. We will stop grieving for
the sunken ferry. Who allowed
the novice, third mate to steer the ship?

Do you know, where the country
was going? The swords had
become a junk shop. Tongues stale,
the language foul.

So we will go for a collective hara-kiri?


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 27 september 2020

The Atavism

The cannibalism was back.
You were eating yourself
alive.

The guts spilt,
would meet the dust,
in abode of earthworms.

They creep and burrow
and bury the organic themes.
Unpolluted, untouched.

The bowels undulate,
to the thumping rhythm,
of greedy feet. White eagles?

How far this digging
of gold mines will go?
Someone had swallowed the glitter.

Black birds are joining
the procession of
empty hearses.


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RENATA

RENATA, 26 september 2020

INSTYNKT

To co w nas zostało pierwotne
to żreć srać i kopulować
nawet nie chcę spojrzeć w lustro
jestem głodna
słów które powszednieją
jak grzech


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RENATA

RENATA, 26 september 2020

gdzie ci faceci

Ten pierwszy sprowadzał
mnie na niziny gdzie
czułam się nikim
jak Syzyf
toczący w dół swój ból
odcięłam go jak
stukilowy garb

Tak chciałam być przytulana
w te bezsenne noce
nawet
przez trzeszczącego maszkarona
gdziekolwiek jesteś rycerzu
podam siebie na talerzu

Pod koniec samotnych wędrówek
z dreszczykiem emocji
przebierałam w koszu
pełnym zgniłych jabłek
starając się wybrać mniej robaczywe

i tak po kolei ślimaki gady
krokodyle goryle glonojady
lwy tygrysy gepardy
w sosie z musztardy
koguty psy jaszczury płazy
przyczepiają swe usta do mojej twarzy
szkaradne nietoperze ślepe jeże cwane lisy
jadowite pająki węże w kieszeni leżeli
jeden po drugim w mojej pościeli

gdzie Ci mężczyzni szaleni tacy
kulturalni i szarmanccy
z błyskiem w oku o cielęcym wzroku
melodramatyczni poeci królowie mroku
od grzechu do grzechu
skazani na pokutę
i tak następni jak zwierzęta
deptali mi po piętach
stając się bezimienni

gdzie Ci mężczyzni z gwiezdnego pyłu
stają się nudni zostają z tyłu
w tym moim świecie utkanym z gwiazd
odnajdę Ciebie gdy przyjdzie czas


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 25 september 2020

Praying Mantises

Unresponsive, an
alien ego: I was moving
deep into the soul-search.
The compactness was
snapping. Played against
the hype, the hawks were descending.
Like milkweed I drip,
waiting to be kissed. Copycat
the moon makes a scar. I am hurt.
I wanted to touch you
behind the lens. Closed in,
the lips won't meet. Cobra will
not spread the skin.
The lamb has lost the
innocence. Knife was
a blessing.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 24 september 2020

On Sick Bed

There were involuntary
pauses.
When you stretch at the sheets.

Those were scorching
questions, about my identity.
I tell, I don't have any name.

The body was partitioned.
My head belongs
to psalms, which I don't understand.

My torso to the lost
ship which went down
without a torpedo.

My legs were my own
taking me, to places, where
I did not want to go.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 23 september 2020

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.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 22 september 2020

Silent Prayer

A manic moon
in ethereal night-
supplicating for a single
cord.Not becoming unfaithful
to me.

An empty desire-
in your absence, remaining
a secret even to myself.

Becoming pseudo, full
of titles, that was not my
world.I am engulfing my
achievements away
from you.

As the life moves on
leaving the bloody footprints
on my chest.I will
always fight my demons
with my broken pen.

Not a blessing I need,
I want to remain a human being.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 21 september 2020

Irreconcilable

Genderless,
instrusive, was the withering effect,
questioning the sex.

Filling the space
between body and soul, you
sail into emptiness.

The mistakes-
happen in night, sleep.
Death will drop the stars.

Ergo, the embedded
testes will not descend; you
can kill the sperms of mosquitoes.

Blueberries, haul you
up from the darkness.
You will find your sun now.


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RENATA

RENATA, 20 september 2020

zespoły nacięć

ona łyka przyjezdnych
jak świeże bułeczki
chrupie ich piękne ciało
żeby nic nie zostało

gardłowy śmiech
skrzypiący głos
maślane oczy
jedwabny dotyk

wygina się jak sprężyna
oszołamia zapachem perfum
w długie chłodne zimowe noce
jest propozycją wyrafinowanych konsumpcji

słodka pokusa
będzie pokuta
uległeś jej wdziękom?
okruchów nie zbieram

z jej stołu
bo choć seksbombą jest jeszcze
pragnieniem szczęścia namiastką
to na nieszczęście jest moją matką


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