poetry

poetry
steve

steve, 9 february 2023

Time Won't Stop

You say that I don't give, the kind of love you need...
I say to have a forest, you first must plant a seed,
It isn't that there isn't love, it's not like I don't care...
It's just the things that matter most, are things that we don't share,
I don't need to tell you, again the way I feel...
For if you cannot hear me, these wounds will never heal,
There's not a day that passes, that your not in my heart...
And not a day that passes, that we don't tear apart,
I've heard it's just a fine line, between what's love and hate...
But the clock for us is ticking, and time won't stop to wait,
I wonder if things were different how happy we could be...
If we break the chains of anger, and set our spirts free,
As long as we hold onto pain, these chains will hold us down...
And we'll look back at what we've lost and love we never found,
I don't know if you hear me, or if were too far gone...
But I'm out here on this ledge alone, for us I'm holding on.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 9 february 2023

Half-Blues

Don't bury my pain
in your sad blinking eyes.
It won't fill the void.

Who was evolved
from a cruel beast into
a human being?

Some pieces of
divinity survive in the
bright passion flowers.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 8 february 2023

Earthly Claims

The lunacy of
touching you, to plug a―
hole, in your innocence.

I wanted to explore
the horizon in your eyes,
where sun meets moon,
in graveyard of sins
and virtues.

Before you had become
my shadow, I used to smell
a distant scent coming
from a slithering
wet body.

I fumble for the words
for mercy of pain. My desert
was once a sea.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 7 february 2023

A Beautiful Song

To begin again,
the travesty of understanding
life.

A mole, a warton
the face of fractured psyche,
I will never know you.

Generations bleed,
to feed the corpse flower―
of fraternity. I go
insane.

Going beyond the
touch of your life, I begin
to shred my forbidden
sin.

You know what
was classic love, to burn
like a moth on flame.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 6 february 2023

Hope In Undoing

Stay till end of
my poem, for
dying sun.

Howling winds searched
my body, my soul
when I stood alone.

The blue scorpion knows
its religion. That was predation.
Landfall for hungry.

If the blood leaks,
the victim sings for moksha.
Milking starts.

The golden leaves
are peeled off from the moon.
No night was safe.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 5 february 2023

Living With Grace

Didn't agree to
sell the dream, for afterlife.
There was dread of
crossing the graves.

Moon intends to
come one step closer, to
find your candor. The innards
wouldn't take off the veil.

There was no iconic
shadow. Hope was fading.
Time to confront the unexpected
assault. Light enters from a crack.

What could be a
second coming of realization
on week legs, in twilight
of disturbing truths?

I am holding the mirror
at a distance.


number of comments: 0 | rating: 1 | detail

Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 4 february 2023

Ancient Landscape

Weeping asokas were talking.
Only THE Plato will tell
the truth about republic.

I was shaken like
dew drops on grass in whirlwind.
No end of unending.

Moon goes on rampage.
When will you meet me in charisma
of midnight September?

Mankind will not
change. The stones roll down
to remain afloat in river.

Take off your hand
from my shoulder. You have
to go for a long journey
without me.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 3 february 2023

With No Anger

Truth survived between us.
You were my anthem―
in dying light.

Like a crucible, the
absent moon, fills it with a poem.
Maybe you will find the signs.

That the illusion
transcends the truth, and
becomes blue.

Who will be born―
again in the ambit of
slavery and deliverance?

Ah, the tragedy
of life was, to give
away the honey to insectivores.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 1 february 2023

Like Hurricane

How would you retrieve
the soul of moon? There was
not enough darkness.

Long back, the ink
was always black, and
the words would tremble
like aspen.

The echo comes
loudly resounding the green
valley's anguish.

Don't hit me,
by a vivid farewell. Buried
one's head in poems
somebody walks through you.

The wound had been― still raw.
A panther jumps on the antelope.


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Marek Gajowniczek

Marek Gajowniczek, 31 january 2023

Niepewności czas nerwowy

Gdzie Car Dzwon obok Car Puszki
tam Kagiebistów wierchuszki
i moskiewscy bojarowie
radzili, jak armii mrowie
poprowadzić aż za Doniec,
wieszcząc reszcie świata koniec,
grabiąc, burząc, gwałcąc, paląc,
na nic się nie oglądając.
.
Na przeciwnym krańcu świata -
tam skąd człowiek w kosmos latał,
Centrów Wywiadowczych świty
widziały przez satelity
gromadzonych wojsk roszady
Znając groźny plan zagłady,
tylko w silnej odpowiedzi
wszystko, co Starlink wyśledził
stałoby się łatwym celem.
Pozostało by niewiele
Wschodniej Flance do zrobienia
w kolejnych kontruderzeniach.
.
Jak ty komu - tak on tobie!
Różnica leży w sposobie,
a wyniku nie zaręczy
nawet udział sił zastępczych,
co może problemy sprawiać.

Może więc lepiej rozmawiać,
choć splątane są języki
znawców geopolityki
i strategów hybrydowych.
.
Niepewności czas nerwowy.


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