poetry

poetry
Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 7 december 2019

Of Land And Ills

The dancing paper,
humilates the pen.
A stunning defeat for morality.
 
In splendid withdrawl,
the eyelids bear the violence
of soil.
 
A broken pride
will get back at you.
Step aside. Let the soul read the dewdrop.
 
The moon meets the
earthen lamp, to understand
the hymns of rag-pickers.
 
The religion drinks
the aroma of holy vice. Was
there any truth of a beast?


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 6 december 2019

Voiceless Assaults

You are waiting
amid fears. The fretting
does not end.
 
At where,
the road ends? To find a blue star
where do we go?
 
The house was
sleeping in fog. Inside the
dome, hooves, quiver.
 
I have to become
mute. Time was black,
my song blue.
 
A pure crime.
The vultures come in
cloaks to take away the lamb.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 5 december 2019

Fading Glory

You want to cover your
amnesia. Death
has no other color.
 
How far you will go
to retrieve
the sensibility?
 
Time does not sit idly.
Undeniably your foe―
poisoning the well.
 
Sky was overcast and
sends misty rain.
Have the heart-leaves and moon-seeds.
 
The history concedes.
Molybdenum was god,
initiating life on earth.


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RENATA

RENATA, 4 december 2019

dojrzewanie -a jesienią zbierzesz plony

w sadzie wokół jabłoni 
twój uśmiech mnie gonił
moje oczy cię rozbierały
a ręce brały

a tam przy starej jabłoni
serce mi dałaś na dłoni
a tam przy młodej gruszy
zakochałam się po uszy


na trawie wśród rumianku
liczyliśmy świerszcze o poranku
graly nam kształty Mendelsona
ty przyszły mąż ja przyszła żona



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RENATA

RENATA, 4 december 2019

przeznaczenie

W księdze pamięci
Urodziła się i jest
Istota komuś potrzebna
Uczy się i dojrzewa
Kwitnie i obumiera
Wartość swoją mierzy
Sumą doświadczeń
I tylko pamięć zostaje
Zbieraczem absolutnym
W drodze do przeznaczenia


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 4 december 2019

For The Skin And Eyes

Not confessional.
Without reading the body
there was no room.
 
My fever rises
in limbs.
Giving me a double vision.
 
This was not my age.
Out of place, I
call for limestone.
 
The sea and
moon will make a castle
on the waves.
 
Whom do you call
careless? I was writing
the verse on blood paper.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 1 december 2019

No Carnage

A house without doors
I was living
in fog.
 
The infamous review
will tell about the
fallen words from the roof.
 
There was no history,
no culture of
cannibalism.
 
I only exhaled
the grief of centuries
shielding the ankle's pain.
 
There had been no
perfect picture of the
dancing god in nude.
 
A blue face swims.
I draw the map of the smell
of cinders.


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George Krokos

George Krokos, 30 november 2019

Simple Observation 151 - It is said that lightning .....

It is said that lightning doesn’t ever strike at the same place twice
and a person passes as a fool who makes the same mistake thrice.
_____________________________


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George Krokos

George Krokos, 30 november 2019

Quatrain 157 - The inner beauty of man.....

The inner beauty of man is far superior to that of the outer,
we only need look deep enough within us to see it's greater.
It is basically through ignorance most haven't seen this fact,
but to actually witness this truth requires extraordinary tact.
________________________________


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George Krokos

George Krokos, 30 november 2019

On Meditation

Sit in silence and have a break
from everything when you're awake.
Take some time and be by yourself
then you might even improve health.
If this is done regularly
you'll enjoy life more happily.
 
Close your eyes to then look within
at the darkness that's consuming.
Just observe the thoughts which arise
don't get involved with all their lies.
Seek the light of your Spirit Soul
and it will lead you to the Goal.
_______________________________


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George Krokos

George Krokos, 30 november 2019

Ode to Felicity

O Felicity, You have been good to me
how can I ever hope to repay Thee?
Just when I thought that all was lost
Your presence inside me did so accost.
 
You lifted me gently out of my darkest hours
brightened the day with the colors of flowers;
together with their fragrance while in bloom
was a remedy that dispelled most of the gloom.
 
And those tears that flowed from my eyes
were in gratitude cleansing like the skies;
after the rains fall and the clouds disperse
the sun shines through with a rainbow verse.
 
You are so gracious and very caring
in spite of our insolence in despairing;
that grip of sorrow is loosened in our heart
as Your bliss removes the pain bearing part.
 
Oh, how thankful we should all really be
when we recognize Your uplifting spree;
You are at hand to restore our natural joy
the darkness of ignorance tries to destroy.
__________________


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George Krokos

George Krokos, 30 november 2019

Why The Caged Bird Really Sings

The caged bird sings because
it longs for freedom
to fly and be with its own kind
and to know what life is really about
and be able to share it with a soul mate.
 
That's why the caged bird sings -
a song of hope and for all we know
a mournful yet beautiful sad song
of longing for the life
it was created for and dreams of having
instead of being cooped up in a cage
playing a role that was
never intended by nature
for it to have and live
as a captive show-piece
for a higher evolved form......
 
The ultimate expression of cruelty
to deprive another creature
of its natural born freedom.....
 
That's why the caged bird really sings!
________________________


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 30 november 2019

World Moves On

The ethical dilemma,
and chaste abscenity,
were the game changers.
 
Vowel syncope was making it easier.
 
Let the most vulnerable
lie still. A pseudowar of words
is going to start.
 
A blast of vocabulary,
some smothering of smells,
will make the jaws, drop soundlessly.
 
And many would not
breath easily. It was catastrophe.
 
The language convulses.
In jungle of gatherings
there was no pond.
 
I was still searching, the inflection.
The creative touch.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 29 november 2019

A Nonarrival

Munitions in place
you were ready
to strike.
 
What you wanted to
find out, I had
found in my poems.
 
It was the dark night―
that becomes ink.
I am writing in black letters.
 
What was the
obsessive cult of
fingertips, holding the pen?
 
Sometimes you look
at you, when
you were not you.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 28 november 2019

Once On Earth Day

Returning to the ragpicker
like a lone fly
of love triangle, said― were you
writing a letter to confess your love?
 
Like a glue sniffer, I
am stuck with you.
O brown earth, raw
wounds heal …
 
When I sing a blade
of grass, when I sit
under moon, holding your
hills for comfort.
 
My head nestling on
your heaving breast, while
I sleep without―
a dream.
 
It was devastating to eat
you. Your cauldron, bubbling.
Someone wants to pay
back your sun, your moon.


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RENATA

RENATA, 27 november 2019

ukryte żądze

piasek pustyni 
złoto w skrzyni
biały proszek
szklane wieżowce

bogacz obłędem szalony
niczego nie szanuje
po kawałku kupuje
uda cycki i dupę potem żony

tu nie ma miłości
pośród setek ciał w nagości
zazdrość tu nie gości
piękne ciała zmyją okruch samotności



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RENATA

RENATA, 27 november 2019

nadziany-nadziana

ślicznotko
masz chęć na walizkę
pełną dolców?

szejk zaprasza
na przyjęcie
oni kochają rasowe
konie i kobiety

i nie śmiej powiedzieć nie
i nie śmiej zakochać się
a będziesz mile widziana
nadziana


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katmata

katmata, 27 november 2019

Przepalony styk

Zabawnie, że cierpisz.
To takie proste odwrócić głowę.
Zabawka na końcu sznurka,
Obraz jutrzni.

Wydrapane w brązie imię, modlitwa za psa.
Pajęczyna myśli, wyliczanka.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 27 november 2019

A Bold Step

Yes it would remain
incomplete, my story―
my poem.
 
The henna speaks today
against unadulterated lies,
against the rage of
losing path.
 
No more the wrens
will sing, till the clouds don't send
apologia for not
sending the rains―
 
of blueberries. If I
were you I will turn the
bees into butterflies.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 26 november 2019

Retrievability

Shredding begins.
One by one all the leaves fall, like disrobing.
 
The words hang around, the naked soul.
You have to catch
the essence.
 
Deep in the sea―
lies the earth like pain. It
rises― when you prod―
 
to recover the intensity.
The center and tangent,
both, cry.
 
Perception comes, when
you break the ―
giant silence, searching for a poem.
 


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 25 november 2019

Fading Faces

Widening the scope
you want to remain
at center stage.
 
Thinking starts, battling
the ghosts. Doubt remains alive.
 
A broken beer bottle, at your throat.
You suffer the fall
of humankind.
 
The acid burns. You wire the
clouds. Tears will not flow.
This is not the end.
 
Turn the page. Why you
need the signs?
 
Those pale, staring eyes, unclosed.
Not sufficient?
Can you read the red line?
 
Was it not an oblique cut,
where the sand was lifted?


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 24 november 2019

Uncementing

Gold fringed, the hood
strikes. You are bound
to throne.
 
It was unnatural to
demolish the ancient shrine.
God will not show his face.
 
And what about the dew
collecting on grass leaves,
when you were crying?
 
The kids won't cry now.
The hunger has put
them to sleep.
 
It was the dead end
now. You are melting in
great walls.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 23 november 2019

The Spillover

Not a dog day―
after snapping. In
fatigues, you get a parole
to start sowing sunflowers.
 
A butterfly skips,
the roundabout and lands
on your lips―
 
after spending entire
life from flower-to-flower
from bush-to-bush.
 
I was a witness to history
in making. There was
no togetherness. Will you
believe that?
 
I am a flame now. All
night I will burn,
to read the explosions―
reaching the bottom of fear.
 


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katmata

katmata, 22 november 2019

Sława

Zat młoda na płacz, naiwna wciąż
śni.
Przeklęty dar młodości przeszkadza
biec.
Traci rytm, poczucie smaku nie to.
Z tanim winem rodzi się bunt.
 
Natarczywość, lepka niecierpliwość.
Bratnie dusze w grzechu.
Zapach zepsucia.
Ludzkie ciało trampoliną do sławy.
Czyż nie?
 
Nad kominkiem portret
ciecia,

zielonym banknotem podpala stos.


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katmata

katmata, 21 november 2019

Wróć

Szmaragdowy blask nocy, 
usta krzyczące. Rozpalone ciała. 
Gdzie jesteś? 
Chłopcze z wymyślonego świata.
 
Łódź odpłynęła,
na piasku pozostał ślad stępki i rdza
czerwona, jak krew.
Serce wciąż bije. Umieram.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 21 november 2019

Balancing Act

Collecting the dirt,
a speechless drama unfolds.
 
Now you can hear the―
wails of buried amnesia.
 
You can touch now the footsteps
where the activist fell.
 
The gift of bleeds coming
from the saddened past;
 
the space was expanding―
to accommodate missed abortions.
 
My limbs giveaway gathering,
the blackberries of moon.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 20 november 2019

Uninviting Destiny

I would not understand
your fabric, when you come
wearing only smile.
 
The politics of life was beyond
my poetry. I only have the words
as my wealth. No other assets.
 
I wanted more space
between the black holes. My earth
needs a rebirth. I am very lonely.
 
Poison poems. You always
sparred with a family of weighting
heights, which could not touch the sky.
 
A series of serial killers,
were ready to begin the assault
on the tossing daffodils, deaf, dumb and blind.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 19 november 2019

Empathy With Tattered Cape

Weep every don.
All the translations were fake.
 
The yellow peaks do not burn the
sky, now at sunrise.
 
I am forgetting myself―
in the gathering of my foes.
 
The pilgrim's path is now dirty.
You cannot transcend the―
 
dead remains of ancestry. In
the hutment, that was the end of view.
 
Nightblindness. I cannot fathom
out the saint descending a great depth.
 
From beastkinds I swim back
to save an unborn epic.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 18 november 2019

Demanding Answers After The Chemical Attacks In Damascus

I was not afraid of the clock, ticking,
dividing your attention. A guarded
withdrawl of the statement, had
brought a comic relief to the distraught
vicitims.
 
Caving on guns, the
mustard cloud could wipe out
the entire generation.
 
The tender bodies
wrapped up in white cloaks,
ready to be sent back
to mother's womb: earth.
 
Why a sun wanted to
pass out gingerly?


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 17 november 2019

Unhurting

Unshackled, the pallor moon
was lying still, in a white-
shroud of clouds, only face
visible, staring-
down languidly.
 
I have come afar,
from the whispering dark,
to annul my existence.
 
Your hands tremble,
carrying your name. The
magic of unsaid-
poems, working.
 
Life had been a Medusa.
The blues, the reds, the
greens, overbearing.
 
Scores will be settled
when moon,
goes down.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 16 november 2019

Ancient Echoes

Art of dying
comes, after
you listen to the siren song.
 
The intention
was to kill yourself,
non-violently, when
moon was hiding.
 
Man was changing the skyline. You can
redraw the landscape without hurting the grass.
 
Don't offer to sacrifice
the goat on the rock,
where the shipwrecks took place.
 
You burn that, what you
would not eat. The
assassination charges were true.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 15 november 2019

Stopping The Wheels

It was a free fall.
A plot seems to thicken.
I would never know.
 
Perhaps I will not explain,
how the test tube baby
slapped the sky.
 
The fun of unknowing
the secret of
a cold-blooded murder.
 
Suddenly the streetlamp
goes off. Night cracks
open to release the animal.
 
How a godman
becomes a werewolf?
The shadows are hovering.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 14 november 2019

Rehabilitation

Trying to bring the change
with bleeding silver.
 
As it is/was, this world.
You may not agree to it.
 
The release of tension
from the cupped eyes? Will not
alter the secret deal.
 
There at the hemline,
bodies were scattered, slain
after the trespass.
 
The royal coin, flexes
its muscle. It will talk
through the muzzles.
 
Poorest of poor will become free.


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katmata

katmata, 12 november 2019

Skaleczony świat

Chciał wszystkiego, ona tylko miłości.
Dwie skaleczone dusze, równowaga gwiazd.
Pytała, on walczył. Dusza czasu jest w nas, 
czego więc szukamy?
 
Zapalone latarnie, mgła i okiennice,
zakonna cisza, modlitwa dnia.
On dawno zapomniał, ona ciągle w marzeniach,
nie wie co on, na niego czeka żona.
 
Malowane latawce, smsy bez końca, 
kurwa,
nie wytrzymam tu miesiąca.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 12 november 2019

Endless Yearning

The thirst will know,
the river was there.
To lie on the grass was ultimate.
 
It was not the green,
it was not the blue,
but desire had the keyhole to look
at the fine sands,
where you stand to find the
elixir of life.
 
A crackling of joint, awakens
you. You will not wait
for the rains to come and overwhelm
the permeable umbrella.
 
A fluttering butterfly
knows, how to become floppy
and dangle like a dead leaf.
 
The stream was
drinking its own water.


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eunoia

eunoia, 11 november 2019

I Don't Mean What I Meant (080819)

I don't like typhoons because it comes with floods right after
butit doesn't mean I don't like rain and lightning

I don't like mornings because it reminds me that I have to wake up and work again
but it doesn't mean I don't like the blue sky, the sun, and the fluffy clouds

I don't like being told often to sleep early because my anemia will be triggered and that it's bad for my health
but it doesn't mean I don't like long hours of sleeping

I don't like noise like blaring horns and loud talking people because it's stressful and irritating
but it doesn't mean I don't turn up the volume to my favourite songs when my headset's on

I don't like the pain that comes when you decide to finally get a tattoo
but it doesn't mean I don't like to have one in the future

I don't like riding a boat and be distanced far from land because i have thalassophobia
but it doesn't mean I don't like the sea, the starfish or the coral reefs

I don't like the idea of falling in love because it comes with heartache and tears
but it doesn't mean I won't risk falling in love with you..


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steve

steve, 9 november 2019

"Morning Light"

If you wake up all alone .. and need someone who cares..
If the weight upon you're shoulders .. becomes too much to bear,
If lonely starts to haunt you.. in the middle of the night..
Or you need someone to hold on to.. who'll hold you just as tight,
If you need someone to talk to.. who would never lie to you..
And won't candy-coat the story.. who stands up for the truth,
If you're tired of the rat race.. and need to get away..
Or need to be taken care of .. if only for a day,
You have but to call me.. and you know that I'll be there..
There's nothing that I wouldn't do.. my soul to you I'd bare,
You're the light in the distance.. that overcomes the dark..
You're the fire that's ignited .. whenever there's a spark,
You're my dream when I'm sleeping.. the answer to a prayer...
I'm the one you can call.. when you think that no one cares,
Just remember that I'm out here.. a lifeline in the night..
Wanting to be with you .. until the "morning light".


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 9 november 2019

Of Innocence And Black Magic

The evil city? You
become the smallest
light.
 
The lamb did not save
the godman. I was
praying loudly.
 
It was falling apart.
The concept, the belief
the palace.
 
Years roll by. Until
the priest was shot down
on the street.
 
You marvel at the
turning of the mountain.
How do you climb down the salt?


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katmata

katmata, 8 november 2019

Prognoza pogody

Niezaplanowane spotkanie, erupcja pragnień. 
Kac.
Po jaką cholerę przyjeżdżasz?
Autobusy są dziś kompletnie inne, 
mają WiFi i 
kradną dusze,
po jakie licho jestem
tu i 
czekam?
 
Skazany za życia, mogłeś wszystko.
Makijaż trupa, 
echo.
Mamy zbyt wiele do stracenia, by wierzyć.
Ja uciekam. Zapytasz dlaczego?


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 7 november 2019

A Keyhole Surgery

Sometimes, I want to write
a folk poem, without name.
 
Anonymously, you want to
postpone the commitment
to accept the murder
of yourself,
the griever.
 
The towering belief―
that there were skeletons
on the grains, as the words
become verses.
 
A snowy virgin
will take a knife, to bring
down the stars
when you sing centuries
of love.


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katmata

katmata, 6 november 2019

Ta noc nie ma końca

Zmyślony obraz jutra, bez znaczenia słowa,
umieram. Rachunek to studnia bez dna.
Tylko echo prawdziwe. Choć.
Też kona.
 
Wymarzone usta, wciąż nieobecne oczy,
noce za dnia. 
 
Piszesz milcząc, ciszą zabijasz.
Najazd kamery i znów pustka. Zmęczona ważka i ja.
Pary powiązań, urwane wieko trumny.
Zapętlony wrzask.


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steve

steve, 6 november 2019

"Too Late"

I tried to protect my heart.. to keep it away from you..
To never let you get too close.. no matter what you do,
I tried to build a wall.. too high for you to climb..
Something that's so ominus.. you wouldn't waste the time,
I thought I'd make no sound.. so you wouldn't know my voice..
We'd never have to look away.. and say we had no choice,
And I tried to leave no trail.. that you might follow me..
I thought if I'm invisable.. there'd be nothing there to see,
But you did touch my heart.. and you didn't even try..
I thought it was safely put away.. I didn't know you could fly,
You scaled the walls with precision.. walls that no one could climb..
I thought my heart was well hidden.. but was only a matter of time, 
I didn't have to say a word.. you knew me all along..
You broke through every defense I had.. when I thought that I was strong,
You took my heart a prisoneer.. and didn't even know..
And left me in a place.. I couldn't dream to go,
I never told you how I felt.. before you went away..
I never told you that I cared.. and I care everyday,
Now you're gone and it's too late.. to cross that great divide..
Regrets and tears are all I have.. for never having tried.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 6 november 2019

Elusive Answers

Constrained.
The starlings will
not fly today.
 
There was a hole
in the sky.
The god particles will fall.
 
Drawing out
the blood of fallen―
angles, on the street.
 
Can you count
the sins of man?
We still celebrate the hate.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 5 november 2019

Condensation

A butterfly
in a bell jar.
All I know, we understand
each other.
 
There was no sun
at midnight.
Only a blue black
dilemma of―
 
the sky, to burn
like human combustion.
I am ready to start
a journey with sunbeams.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 4 november 2019

Unbroken View

Segment by segment
the secret breaks. There was
no song afterwards.
 
A robin hops on the dirt road.
Time was scare.
Living water was escaping.
 
Visibility has not changed.
I walk in great agony
without you.
 
The fabric was loosing
the color. The book will
never be complete.
 
I enter the colosseum, for
digging up the voices―
buried in the throats.
 
The daffodils wait in
backyard for the ceremony.
Light has come in the eyes.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 3 november 2019

An Uncanny Feeling

I would let it go
anything now. Will not accept
any grace.
 
I am moving unfazed―
buttons apart. Let the night
descend.
 
A hired applause was not needed.
 
As the gorgeous earth plays its last tune.
I will wait in the lobby, to fail again.
There was no repeat
of the deciduous teeth,
coming back to chew your fingers.
 
The small steps you won't
take to bridge the unknown.
 
Scoping the language, watching
itself dying.


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steve

steve, 2 november 2019

"Just Some Friend"

It's hard to even come around .. and pretend I'm "just some friend"...
When I look into those deep blue eye's.. I'm drifting on the wind,
Your beauty leaves me breathless.. when you come into view...
I lose all sense of any thoughts.. as all thoughts turn to you...
I try to be like other friends.. but your other friends aren't gay...
And awkward moments when I'm with you.. reveal what I can't say,
I can barely breathe at all.. when I get too close to you...
So forgive me if I can't stay long.. for I can't hide the truth,
The tears rain down inside of me..and the river's overflow...
It's not a truth I want to share.. but I've no place else to go,
I feel I'm hanging by a thread.. and no one has a clue...
But I don't have the right to ask.. for what I need from you,
To lay down close beside you.. to hold your hand in mine...
Together on a stary night.. you let me cross the line,
You give me what I dream about.. you share that part of you...
You take me where I've never been.. that's what a friend would do,
I know that what I ask of you.. is more than most would give...
But I'll cherish the memory all my life.. as long as we both live.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 2 november 2019

Not Water Proof

Stoned to death.
The rooted plants had begun
to climb the mountain.
 
Very hot here.
Difficult to breath in.
Why lesser flamingos were landing
on dry lake?
 
They enter via back door.
The multi-tuberculates.
Why the man was
running away from the orchids?
 
Strange, our lineage was
getting interrupted, by
smoke screens.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 1 november 2019

Classical Entry

It takes billions of years
for ancient light to reach us and
rescue the trapped darkness.
 
You can hunt among rocks
in the palisades, behind
the ramparts.
 
There was an apocalypse.
 
Stem cells were ready
to repair the myelin―
searching ancestry.
 
It was a tense stand-off
between the headstone and a living dead.
 
Cannot repay the debt of blue
Sky, sending us
the warnings of catastrophy.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 31 october 2019

Invisible Ink

I will meet the moon
on the terrace,
when the dust settles on the
lids, smothering
the uncharted barricades.
 
Life had been full of dresses
to play the lead in
conflicts of alliance vows.
 
Like untouched goodbyes,
you hover around the exit―
to seek the blessings of dark.
 
In the glasshouse, you cannot
walk nude. The wounds, the scars
the burnt-out fabrics
will tell the truth.
 
A priest will invoke
the mercy of the vessel.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 30 october 2019

Updated

I will not elaborate,
what I mean.
You have to dig out the treasure.
 
The puzzle was not new.
The memorial will be
buried in the sand.
 
A bloodbath will give―
the final touch to the
ground, less savoury now of inhumanity.
 
We celebrate the anniversary
to forget the world's
conflicts, man made.
 
Will you come in the
dark? The snipers are watching
out for the sparks of mercy.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 29 october 2019

Holding Back

The credibility
of an apple
becoming an icon.
 
It draws first
blood, when you―
were sleeping.
 
It still matters:
thinking of milt
but sinking your ferry.
 
There was no epilogue.
 
A midsummer night.
I will forget
your name.
 
Standing in a
queue, you should not
punish yourself
 
becoming unmatched.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 28 october 2019

Not Accountable

A breast bomb,
makes a sudden lunge-
disfiguring the landscape
till your body was pulled out.
 
Your choices were very few.
Either you walk straight
or become a leaf of grass.
 
It will not work. A swift―
withdrawl from the controversial
marriage with ferocity,
 
as naked as moon. How
about the aspirant refusing
to sit for engraving in gold?
 
The salt bearers were coming
to act like gods.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 27 october 2019

The Ground Gives Way

To blunt the offence
of beautiful pain
you stopped remaining good.
 
This was a perverse phenomenon
 
wearing the straight jacket
you try to become
a beast.
 
The glowing eyes will
send the message to dispose off
the headless body of
a marbled saint.
 
Someone has taken off
the eyes. You will need
a transplant of religion.
 
I am very unhappy.


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Renato N. Mascardo

Renato N. Mascardo, 26 october 2019

A Hymn to Him

rondeau en rondeau
 
round he is not my little pet
ten will he be but not just yet
I love him like an only child
but his feelings for me are mild
t'was love at first sight when we met
nine years later love has not set
it will remain lest I forget
with time's toll we are reconciled
round he is not
French is his name yet he is nyet
all day asleep and he is all set
just don't expect him to run wild
my puppy and I are just mild
being laid back he has no regret
round he is not//
 
renato
26 october 2019 11:37am PHL time   


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 26 october 2019

No Explanation

How difficult it was to
remain a simple truth,
as passive grass
with no frills.
 
I was ready to talk
heart to heart.
 
You cannot stand all the ink,
writing, simple verse, furtively.
 
What was eating you up,
I asked the milkweed.
"On this summer, monarchs
were not coming to breed"
it said.
 
I felt the unease. Grappled with the
amount of pain, at tiny thoughts.
 
The scale and brutality
of the times, the throats slit open.
 
Like a clam you shut up.


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steve

steve, 25 october 2019

"Fly Away"

I guess I should let go.. as you want no part of me...
And never get to know the part.. that I have yet to see,
The part of you I've longed for.. the part I've never known...
The part that's kept behind closed doors... a fortress made of stone,
I know just where I stand .. you can't help the way you feel..
We can't control whats in our heart.. or expect it to be still,
And though my true desire.. runs deeper than the sea..
Sometimes we have to bury pain.. before we can be free,
But I will not forget you.. I wouldn't even try..
Does the moon forget the stars.. as they share the evening sky?                                     
I must "fly away".. while there's wind beneath my wings..
But you will always have my heart.. and I'll always have my dreams..


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 25 october 2019

How Did You Arrive?

After sitting in dark
through the black smiles,
you cannot stand the light.
 
The bloodshed, inclusive
of measuring the purity of intent,
celebrating the arrival―
 
and departure, ignoring the passage.
The road smells the spot, and feeds the rags.
 
These leaps and bounds
land you at the dead end. No trees
no leaves. Where you will go now?
 
How you hate yourself, now
beheading the roses. The cloud forest, where
you will find a new carnivore.


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steve

steve, 24 october 2019

"No Words"

Though all you show is distain for me .. I'll always care for you ..
Because nothing that you said.. made me feel the way you do,
Am I supposed to walk away.. and never say your name ..
Never dream of you again.. and pretend there is no pain,
Tell myself to just let go .. you never cared for me ..
And put my broken heart away.. that I wore on my sleeve,
Because my whole world got darker.. when you said goodbye ..
And though you wouldn't know it .. I'd think of you and cry,
I don't know what I did.. that would turn your heart to stone ..
But when you said goodbye to me .. it hurt right to the bone,
Any thoughts of touching you.. have all dissolved away ..  
And any dreams I had of us.. will never see the day,
So I try hard to not think about.. the last time I saw you ..
I don't want to feel your hate.. much less believe it's true,
You took me by complete surprise .. I had "no words" to say ..
And I can't fight the one I love ..  I had to walk away,
I thought that we were stronger .. than any play on words ..
I thought that we were friends.. but I guess that's been deferred,
It's not easy letting go .. but you know I can't hold on ..
If that's the way you really feel.. you're already gone,
I'll just have to face the dark.. the way I always do ..
Shed some tears before I sleep.. and wake up without you.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 24 october 2019

People Versus Silence

In the humid night
there was a circularity
of rhythmic chirping of the crickets.
 
Suddenly there is a lull.
Everything stops in the tracks.
Then a chorus rises―
building up to crescendo.
 
You become easily distracted
being sole surviving species―
not defending you flaws.
 
Then your mind shrinks.
You would like to hide
the emptiness, but
the psyche impales you.
 
The baby moon starts
transliterating the great―
silence on your lips.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 23 october 2019

Chasing The Wild Cat

Pushed aside and
sequestered, like a
frieze, you hang on a wall.
 
From grape to grapefruit
the journey was tedious.
When you start reading the mind,
the crisis deepens.
 
Cannabis? Like psychoactive;
the anger rises against hyper―
male identity. A gender
 
based disorder. It kills
scores of cuckoos. Who will
give now, a mating call?
 
A prison-break. You set
free all the songs and
release the inmates of conscience.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 22 october 2019

Shooting Stars

It is over. The curtain falls.
I have come to settle―
my account with the waning moon.
 
Will call you later,
when the dawn breaks
and sun spells out the light.
 
The water has receded―
on the beach, leaving some
empty shells, hollowed fish
 
and upturned paper boats.
I move around the small pool,
left by the angry sea.
 
You will start commenting
on my poems. I wanted to read
your handwritten notes to know―
 
how your mind works.
I will not meet you again.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 21 october 2019

In Mist

There was a scream,
a howl. Something, somebody
had scuttled the platter.
You stop and frisk yourself,
and as if the red ants had
started coming out from your
eyes.
 
It wets the script. An apparition.
A dove flutters in the chest. A
fantasy, like you leave your body.
A window opens, shuts. Opens, shuts.
One vestigial flicker of the miasma
unsettles, the tree culture,
The undersides of the tongue becomes blue.
 
Do you know, you read
from the back side of the brain?
Have you heard the hindsight?
Yes, sometimes, means no.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 20 october 2019

Off The Tangent

To foil the pride of
initiating the blasts;
there was a terror watch―
to share a common link
of violence.
 
And speak I will, for the
grains, for the grass,
in the endless search
for the peace.
 
The obsessed autism
illustrates the bipolar.
Light and darkness―
alternating.
 
A thought poetry, in
quantum physics, makes
a sacrifice. It will
not look back.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 19 october 2019

A Nondescript Night

The quality drops. You
look at the sky.
A juvenile moon was
following us.
 
The intention was not very
clear. To shake off the tail,
we went behind the bushes―
to understand ourselves.
 
The ennui was taking a
big toll. The roots were becoming
robotic. Cannot negotiate an issue.
 
Seedless, you cannot
impregnate. No thoughts―
no poems.
 
But then the life has so
many giggles.
 
You can start reading a murder.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 18 october 2019

Appropriatly Speaking

No use, running after the scent
of the hounded animal.
 
The cat was dead.
 
You cannot travel beyond the sound.
Your presence was noted―
in a particle only.
 
In the blurred image of a paper
you may exist, may not.
 
But I am alone. What was life?
An unheard script handed down
by unseen hand?
 
Sugar curtains and salt-water:
you cannot stand the acrimony
of the pair standing nonchalanty.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 16 october 2019

Forces Unseen

He was slated to become
godless, without engaging―
the nature.
 
The violence continues
in every joint, after an ego clash
in fractured body.
 
A blood carnival, between
divine and the beast, paying
the debt of earth.
 
The decadence. Let it be.
Becoming beautiful
in great decline.
 
The dice has been thrown.
A chance to meet―
the death after the duel.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 15 october 2019

Flawless

Like walking on coal dump
coming of age.
 
Magnifying the blackness
of a miner's hands.
 
Excavating a long burrow
to feed the pain.
 
A muffled cry and you
locate a bound sea.
 
A clear moon was rising
as a witness to this atrocity.
 
A classic dance of an
angry god to show the presence.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 14 october 2019

Cross Beams

A quest for negativity
after becoming apolitical.
 
The moon was marginalized,
when you lighted your―
earthen lamp under the
holy basil.
 
At night the demons
begin the assaults to
make the milk dirty.
 
The bluebird descends
in the dream to pick up
the elders for a wreath.
 
I am not going to cross
the river in flames.


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Renato N. Mascardo

Renato N. Mascardo, 13 october 2019

and so it goes

muscae volitantes
 
floating
pieces of my
memories just beyond
the pale of the eyesight of my
dim mind
 
in the
morass of my
past the flotsam of what
I thought I knew flit by out of
my reach
 
still in
blind hope I wait
unwittingly for thoughts
long gone for wit long lost to me
I wait//
 
renato
13 october 2019


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 13 october 2019

Did Not We Cry?

Ash and smoke.
I am fever, not becoming
any sound.
 
Like a lichen, a mycorrhiza
on damp soil,
unfound by light.
 
Thriving in airless
dark. Will not see the cool―
moon of summer night.
 
There was no key
to find the invisible.
A random poem will see.
 
Your painted body
in blue scars, still
remembers the fallen roof.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 12 october 2019

Bloodless Eyes

The fresco had started
peeling off. I was―
searching for my ancestors.
 
The walls had the secrets
buried deep in the bricks―
when they were baked.
 
Few abandoned poems,
some fakes and counterfeits
and many masks.
 
A dynasty speaks of
the grieving world without any―
remorse. I do not arrive.
 
A birthday present for the new
generation, a bronzed
face with glazed eyes looking beyond gravity.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 11 october 2019

Renunciation

The bifurcation―
was complete.
A fire baby―
and a weird ritual.
 
Criticality was redundant,
once I knew your gender.
 
Reeking of timelessness
in zero hour.
You fly the balloons―
from the ruins.
 
I scraifice a tree
for you, with
a shrill cry―
falling mid-flight.
 
White moon had
become very harsh.
I will bring honey
for night.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 9 october 2019

The Seeker

Skin bleached in moon,
you prepare yourself tonight to hit the mystry,
 
of a recipient. The days are
tattooed on your body. The hands become claws.
 
A terrorist, becomes a canine,
biting blood-hot.
 
Like the opal, in a slow stream
of light, displaying the pisces around your―
 
eyes, swimming. There is no
money left to bring the milk of blue pain.
 
A physical contact via moon,
would you talk to me after the glorious sunset?
 
O, multiheaded cobra,
which of your hood is going to strike me


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 8 october 2019

Sunbath

The tibial spiking
now hurts.
The floaters on the dried bed―
 
of bones, speak volumes
of sand in eyes.
Pawns have disappeared.
 
The earth is wounded.
A snake climbs onto the pink lips
to know its crime.
 
The matter interacts wrongly
with radiation. Spectroscopy
fails up to the hilt.
 
On the spur of the moment
I ignite the shadow
of the space between us.
 
The miser starts counting the coins.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 7 october 2019

Musing On

There was an urgency―
to finish the job,
beheading the tulips.
 
Wolves were coming.
 
The surveillance had failed.
Nothing but clouds between
the titles.
 
Writing was illegible.
It was the last offensive
of blankness.
 
Before the dawn.
You have to draw a crescent
moon on my forehead.
 
I am going to scream.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 6 october 2019

Concealed Fever

It is raining.
The water colors.
I miss the ache.
 
When, to wear a crimson
dot on forehead, the sky
had become a bride.
 
Destiny fractured.
Why did't I tell the lies
 
to achieve the greatness?
Not my effects. I stare
blankly at your portrait.
 
Blaming the conceptual
crisis, you cannot speak the truth.
 
Weaving a web of unseen
threads, you hold a poem
ready to take a flight.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 5 october 2019

A Hanging Tale

Your hands tremble,
when you accept―
the cup of hemlock.
 
Not like Socrates,
who described the ascending bane
paralyzingly.
 
Art of letting it go―
was inherent. Exogamy.
The root population grows.
 
I have come to take
your hand, O death,
out of caste.
 
You tell me,
it was out of turn,
to stitch the black wound.
 
The howling was persistent―
Moon was not yet sighted.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 4 october 2019

Being Alone

Writing your own elegy in a
blocked artery―
 
for a syntactic analysis.
How do I know
 
that dolphin will remember
my name,
my address?
 
It swims silently.
No ranting.
 
Eating nothing― anorexia.
Standing under a tree,
tying the thread round the trunk,
you want to move against
the time.
 
Only a question
remains unanswered.
From where the journey begins?


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 3 october 2019

Not A Dream

Imperfect mating.
I am lurching forward―
in a chaotic
non-existence.
 
There was no divinity
in your sinless sprinkling.
A timeless death was
the only riposte to ephemeral queries.
 
A lif-size God stands
sentinel outside the museum.
Only the mortal were
etched on the walls.
 
A pygmy cycas has bloomed
after a decade. I have come back
home to collect―
my belongings of last life.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 2 october 2019

When Technology Fails

Your comatose
countenance:
punctuates a coronal spurt.
 
Life will never
forget this insult and return
your freak awards.
 
The moon cancels
a lake meeting. You cannot
celebrate the arrival of night.
 
Helplessly, I scrap
the terror threat, though
your memory was severed in an ambush.
 
At ground zero,
a young couple starts a sit-in
against the raining sermons.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 1 october 2019

Testimony

A wax house you were
gifted to live in sun.
No comments. As if the chess
game now starts. You do not know
how to move a checkmate
 
Always a looser. You do not
want to win this game― of
betting the cemetery― where your
ancestors were buried. No―
body has come to claim the remains.
 
Unkissed, the seeds will wait
to become antiqued, till a
historian finds a shovel. A
state of mind, you were very poor.
I will not cry for the fall's colors.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 30 september 2019

Moon Burning

I become again a fakir,
but not on alms.
 
A giver wants nothing
after a knife thrust.
 
Take away as many as
you can, my thoughts, my limbs.
 
There is no language
of charity, in the black hole.
 
You are the one, who
does not need any ladder.
 
Sitting on the beach, watching
the waves collapsing.
 
One day you will move
away from the walkway.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 29 september 2019

Proclaming

After land slips it was
most surreal scene. Cadaveric
donations had started.
 
The author of death would
ask for a showdown. Blood
for blood and bone for bone.
 
The loneliness erupts again
like a volcano. The new moon
will weep for outdoors.
 
A mermaid breaks the
rules. Starts wearing the
makeup and becomes robed.
 
Fishing in aquarium was
prohibited. An absurd
proposition of the glass.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 28 september 2019

A Patty Thing

The primal urge to undo―
your hair. I am going
crazy.
 
It ends at beginning.
A rite of passage to nakedness
of soul, when you have
nothing to hide.
 
The master cell, has flipped
over, after you squeezed
its belly. The tasteless sphagnum
was out.
 
The hunger stands at your door.
Wants the bread of pride.
Will you stop the clock
and go for timeless?
 
I had lighted the incense
sticks. One for you and
one for God.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 27 september 2019

Vast And Near

To shut the methane,
you sent―
the barbs. The brutal
assault against the thimbles.
 
I will not send the
edict for withdrawl.
Even the river
was thirsty.
 
The freaks were
jumping on the fence.
An interrupted moon
was wary of them.
 
I will draw a
sand painting to heal
the man on the
beach.
 
The air smells
like an egg. As you
run, the mist
fills your eyes.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 26 september 2019

Disconnection

Move on. O city, you
were not worth of
living any more,
sleeping on your tusks.
 
I will not assume
any other new name―
when the hurricane
finally arrives.
 
It will not go. You
can keep scratching
for whole life.
Your psoriatic scalp.
 
The attempt to
commit suicide was
worthless. Nobody
will write a note.
 
I will not invite
the white moon to―
break the fast,
after the bloodbath.


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George Krokos

George Krokos, 25 september 2019

Simple Observation 146 - After a new thing is acquired........

After a new thing is acquired and repeatedly seen
it will almost seem then as if it has always been.
_______________________


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George Krokos

George Krokos, 25 september 2019

Quatrain 151 - Do not tarry too long by the wayside.....

Do not tarry too long by the wayside on the road home that you have taken;
get up, move forward, look ahead to the horizon and with the sunrise waken.
If you've got yourself caught in a rut get out as soon as there is an opening,
because this world is a vast place with many paths and doorways beckoning.
________________________________


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George Krokos

George Krokos, 25 september 2019

Never Lose The Laughter in Your Eyes

You should never let anyone take away the laughter in your eyes
when they look into them and see the inner blessing is still there;
as they've recognised it being lost in themselves and try to disguise.
 
For if it is still with you, then you are very blessed indeed
and the other person will only try to steal that very thing
which has been missing from their life out of jealous greed.
 
It could be anybody you may know or will sometimes meet
in your wanderings, no matter who they appear to be like,
because they have squandered theirs and are now out to cheat.
 
That person will try just about anything to steal your inner mirth
in a deceitful or unsuspecting way; so you'll have to take care,
as it's rightfully yours and perhaps have even regained since birth.
 
The laughter in one's eyes is the connection with the bliss and light of the soul
which is inherent in all human beings no matter how cold they seem to be
but can be lost when one acts against their own conscience and neglect its role.
________________________


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George Krokos

George Krokos, 25 september 2019

A Long Lost Love

I fell in love and lost my heart
and that was why it tore apart.
The love given wasn't returned
by the one for whom it had yearned.
 
It all seemed so sad at the time
I often thought it was a crime.
But then I could be so naive
early in life's path to believe.
 
Nature's hand had dealt me a blow
and recovery was very slow.
Everyone I asked was futile
in answering to make me smile.
 
I sought for love in wrong places
and all I got was strange faces;
looking back at me with contempt
'cause in their heart love was exempt.
 
Rejection is a dreadful thing
and everyone has felt its sting.
A love you may feel for someone
is best experienced as fun.
 
Never force love on another
even if they're a real brother
You'll just draw them further away
and who knows what else is at play.
________________


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George Krokos

George Krokos, 25 september 2019

A Bumble Bee Mystery

I once had seen a bumble bee
or so I thought it was to me.
In the backyard one sunny day
I saw it flying low and stay
hovering there near a flower
as I walked by like a tower.
 
It was big and did seem busy
looking at it made me dizzy.
Glowing in an unearthly light
and its colours were also bright.
It almost seemed now I recall
that scene was supernatural.
Because in the blink of an eye
it vanished without telling why.
 
I looked around hoping to see
where it had gone this bumble bee
But no matter how hard I tried
I never again caught or spied
another glimpse of that creature
with such a radiant feature.
____________________


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 25 september 2019

I Will Write A Poem

He used to tread lightly as if
walking on concrete, barefoot―
to capture the apologetic
colours of rainbow in lake.
 
A spinning top, he wanted
to float on water and touch
the soft contours in depth―
wrestling with waves.
 
A dark sky was hovering
around. Something was rising
from the black hills, as if
on fire. I had never seen before―
 
the golden moon, rising. Two
song birds darting to and fro
as if in great agony to save
the nestlings from the lynx.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 23 september 2019

Beyond The Stars

Coming from the dark―
to deceptive bloodletting.
The light was my father.
 
That eternal moment
of pine cone―
to become the third eye.
 
The ancient memory
becomes vandalized. I
still treat it with respect.
 
The unclaimed truth was
yours. I wanted to retrieve
the spoken word.
 
Incongruously brazen
was your thrust, exhorting
me to drown.


number of comments: 0 | rating: 0/0 | detail |


Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 22 september 2019

By Any Reckoning

A young grasshopper lands
on the paper, I was writing upon,
making a chirping sound―
and starts reading the poem.
 
It was an exceptional treat
for the eyes. Shutting the storm
window, I will watch the rain―
pounding on the frame,
to recall the visitor―
 
which was behaving like a
celtic Druid, in meditation, to see
the future of mankind.
 
Not sure, the bent legs, will
ever lift the body and
propel it to move.
 
The mayhem was thin, but I
declared― the poetry
was not for insects.


number of comments: 0 | rating: 0/0 | detail |


steve

steve, 21 september 2019

"Walk Away"

It cuts just like a knife.. everytime I hear your name..
And I feel the blood just drain away.. as I'm consumed with shame,
Your never going to let me touch.. the part of you I need..
And I'm never going to let you know.. just how much I bleed,
The tears rain down inside my head.. and I am washed away..
As this heart is broken once again.. by the things I couldn't say,
I tried to hide this burning flame.. but I got to close to you..
Now my whole dam world is burning down.. and theres nothing I can do,,
I don't want to beg you .. I'd rather "walk away"..
It hurts too much when you walk by.. its not your fault I'm gay,
Even tears can't douse the flames.. as I begin to burn..
And the pain that only lonely brings.. is far too strong to turn,
My hearts desire in front of me.. and yet a world away..
But I'd give this life to feel your love.. if only for a day.


number of comments: 0 | rating: 0/0 | detail |


Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 21 september 2019

On The Death Of A Friend

Unsung:
how it was, you died
wearing your shoes? The
jesamins will meet you―
in the backyard.
 
The stains are unwashable;
like pomegranates bursting
open on my chest. The
screams still run after me.
 
How do I get you midway―
in anonymity. I never wanted
you to go, my make-believer.
It was not homozygosity.
 
Your face swims like
a dragonfly on the interface
of tears. There was no re-entry
in the frame of life.


number of comments: 0 | rating: 0/0 | detail |


Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 19 september 2019

Infinity Of Aching

Leaker had started
the invasion of the lake.
The house blinks every night.
 
Was there any civility
for boats to collect―
the skeletons from the bed?
 
The dust dances in my
empty home. From where―
the ashes of wounds had come?
 
There was fear of unknown.
I was afraid of the fear.
I am burning your address.
 
I see an apparition. A
branded witch. I don't care.
Death was always my friend.


number of comments: 0 | rating: 0/0 | detail |


Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 18 september 2019

Another Mistake

Training your voice, you
had come around to open―
the door of the miasma.
 
The departure stretched
very long. Strange blinkers
were holding the light.
 
A cunning God would
not let you die―
in the trenches of syllables.
 
The moon would withdraw
from the humming night―
for a face-lifting.
 
One blind sun, hurts
the path, where I had
laid the marigolds.


number of comments: 0 | rating: 0/0 | detail |


Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 17 september 2019

It Was No Magic

When you would be absent,
O Druid, I will know you better.
Time leaps my watch―
I have become blind.
 
It was not enough to
read― that was not written yet.
I am coming down the mountain
to meet the dust.
 
Life was not very kind to me.
Too much undoings had given
me a white sheet to―
write the names of fugitives.
 
I sweep the floor, I wash
the black earth and shut―
the windows. Too much knowing
had made me a dwarf.


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