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poetry
Satish Verma, 19 november 2021
Crazy Thoughts
A blighted ovum
demands a ransom for life.
Unhinged, you rub with―
the command and
set free a poem.
Some very visceral fears
hold your hand and
ask to write an epitaph
of yourself.
Unboiling the egg in
irreverent manner, you
proceed to make death,
out of eternal entangled questions.
The sheer stress unmakes
you into a creator
and you begin to spawn
a new religion of violence.
RENATA, 18 november 2021
kochanka
dotyk dłoni ust i języka
nikt tak nie kocha jak on
nikt tak nie dotyka
noce bezsenne gdy splot ciał
grzeszny kac wśród pościeli
fal magnetyzm szyję całują usta
i niżej niżej wolno taktownie
i kwiatów bukiet na odchodne
ich kolce wchodzą w dłonie
wino jest jak narkotyk aż po świt
wtulona w pustą poduszkę po tobie
bo Ty właśnie przy żonie niby
nie kochasz jej lecz nie potrafisz
odejść opowiadasz tak niesamowite
historie ale nigdy nie powiesz kocham Cię
serce mi płacze chcę Cię rzucić skasować
Ty uparcie wracasz głodny mej gładkiej skóry
łabędziej smukłej szyi ja brudna i potępiona
w ciąży jest twoja żona żółkną słowa więdną myśli
diabeł rozpustnik namalował wizje taka żądza ciała
jeśli znów o zmierzchu będziesz miał ochotę
tego wczoraj już nie będzie scenariusz napisało życie
dziś ja pod sercem noszę cząsteczkę zawiłości
bez ciebie już słucham porywających za serce muz
bez ciebie już
Satish Verma, 18 november 2021
Singing In Dark
Will I know you―
by unknowing myself in bleak―
moments of giving
wings to you?
Raising your legacy; losing
my words, I block
a masterstroke. Something
was wrong. I was walking alone.
Disrobing a covered
statue, the anguish of
incorrectness hangs.
Enduring a song of―
drums, calling the sun from clouds
for a wounded earth.
What was truth
in jungle of beasts? Any
humming left on the lips of trees?
Satish Verma, 17 november 2021
Winter Backdrop
An earthy scent
rises, when―
you rain in me.
The hole in
heart. Naked
as salt of eyes.
My roving boat
sinks near
the banks of ashes.
Pure and white
like snow
you fall on my lips.
Satish Verma, 16 november 2021
Present Life
It is.
What you don't think,
and don't want to share. Nothing.
Kamikaze― divine wind
destroying your crotch.
Saffron― dried stigmas.
The hiss of a dead shake,
kitchen's flavor for celibates.
Many roads to reach
the mannequins. God is
one. Hydra's tentacles catch
the believers.
Unwholesome.
I won't taste the violence
of celestial bamboos.
Satish Verma, 15 november 2021
The Great Dilemma
Break your silence.
Stay for me.
Face-to-face, after
my first inning,
prey for me.
To know the whole truth
I will change the
ecosystem.
The fake reals,
would become the change,
you never wanted to see.
Smitten by your verses
I was in distress. The
sexless army of thoughts
stand in snaky queues―
beating the big gods.
A nickel for your
eyes. Why they have become
fathomless?
Satish Verma, 14 november 2021
Against The Current
That mad truth.
The unborn was knifed
long back. Now you throw―
the net in the crowd.
I had found you
after the centuries of conflict―
in small eyes, looking
for the stolen myths.
I want to hold your
face one day and bury it
in my tears. It should not have
happened in the jungle
of jinxed plays.
The unmarked tree. I
had picked up the fallen fruit
to taste you. Would you
find me in dark?
Satish Verma, 13 november 2021
In Misty Day
Moment of truth.
Bougainvilleas
on grass.
A visible absence.
I was searching―
you in poems.
Your fluid eyes.
My moon-clouds
ready to crash on the land.
In my cupped hands
I collect the tears
of the sky.
Satish Verma, 12 november 2021
Who Had Spoiled The Show?
Muzzle the ape, that
bleeds the tall tree,
tearing apart the blue birds.
I saw it coming.
I was overwrought; watching a
beheading― of the innocent,
in the town square.
People standing in queues to
grab the voodoos.
When you will end my woes
basking in the glory of blood?
O god, take away my chips,
my papers,
my pen.
I am tired of this deceit of man.
Everybody walks like a saint
on the holy banks
where flows the river of tears.
Satish Verma, 11 november 2021
Searching New Phrases
In twilight
the sickle moon,
waits for the dark.
What a kill.
Roses in bloom
watch haying.
Halix of life
uncoils, to warm
the man.
The butterflies
shiver in sun.
Fine weather.
Latest comments:
13 october 2024
jeśli tylko
klaskanie jedną ręką
12 october 2024
Weronika
Dialog jednej osoby.
12 october 2024
Belamonte/Senograsta
no, też tak mam, nie wiem co się porobiło,
12 october 2024
prawie wszystkie wiersze są o przyrodzie
12 october 2024
tyle się o niej mówi, a dziwi, że przyszła..
12 october 2024
Nie da się ich hodować na balkonie :)
12 october 2024
takie mam blado liliowe, chłodne. Ale kwitną
12 october 2024
tak proste a plastyczne :)
12 october 2024
jest klimat :)
11 october 2024
to ciekawe, to może piszesz programy dla szkół?
11 october 2024
Dziękuję, widzę że nie wiem co z tego co
11 october 2024
sam53
jesień tak ma... :)))
12 october 2024
wiesiek
12 october 2024
Satish Verma
11 october 2024
wiesiek
11 october 2024
Satish Verma
10 october 2024
wiesiek
10 october 2024
Jaga
10 october 2024
Eva T.
10 october 2024
Satish Verma
9 october 2024
wiesiek
9 october 2024
Satish Verma