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poetry

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Renato N. Mascardo

Renato N. Mascardo, 15 april 2021

unreeling a tangled skein

may old acquaintance be forgot – or not

you
strike the match tip – suddenly

the hiss
the flash
the whiff

the splendor
captivates – like

remembrances of a love
long gone – until

the flame and now
reach and sear
you//

renato
wednesday 14 april 2021

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 14 april 2021

The Blunt Clashes

The fractured core,
a broken faith, there was
no life after death.

The colossus was drowned
in white, stunning
the men in black.

You cannot encircle
the sun-spots with
bare dogmas.

The tear's salt is found
scrapped on lips, will not
find a place to sink.

How deep you will go
in the tattoos? The sun
wanted to check in the dementia.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 13 april 2021

Dragging The Clouds

And my love, when do we talk
of wilderness
and daisy blooms?

The snakeskin―
twirls, and I watch the
wriggling night moving away.

I swallow the
empty words. They are not
heavy and no concoction.

The body and desires.
I have let then slip away,
my dreams, my knocks.

Against the dying of
blueberries in your eyes,
I will not wash the stains.

The curve of umbilicus
still remembers the dazzling
fall.

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RENATA

RENATA, 12 april 2021

OBUCH

Wyszła za Wiesława
bo mama kazała
ze wsi do wsi
dla zdrowotności
dzieci rodzić

jak to bywa na jawie
on nie szanował jej
od tłustych świń wyzywał
jakoby nawet kijem przez szmatę
nie chciał brać
tylko się śmiać śmiać śmiać

I odszedł do kochanki
bo przecież teraz był panem
bo państwo zapłaciło
za te pola obwodnice
za jego straty rekompensaty
on pił i hazard uprawiał
chodził w złocie
i się zabawiał zabawiał

A jednak żona to nie świnia
podjęła decyzję i się odchudziła
on stary pijak nieogolony
na sali sądowej nie poznał żony
szukał swojej tłustej świni
znalazł szczupłą panią w mini

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RENATA

RENATA, 12 april 2021

otchłań

Myślałam że książę niebieskooki
zawirował wokół i serce zdobył
piękny narcyz ciągnie włosy me
szloch zamiera w gardle
proszę nie nie nie

Pierwszy raz uderzył trzy dni
po ślubie nikt nie uwierzył
ślady ślady ślady to lubię
powiedział tusz tusz tusz
przecież jesteś winna
zamknij się już

Nie pozwolę Ci odejść
usłyszałam i drżące kolana
przeszkodą dla stóp
łup łup łup
zemdlałam

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 12 april 2021

The Sunrise

Centrality suffers.
A poem
cries.

The kingfisher
dives
to find the depth of water.

Ready to strike
beyond― the
horizon, black hole.

With September
blues on―
my hands, I pray.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 11 april 2021

Was It Scary?

Do not measure zany,
yourself. When did you become
your pedagogue?

Around the city I am
planting the roses―
against the wishes of land mines.

Haunted by a survivalism,
somewhere the smoke
was rising. But I wanted―

to leave the fragrance
for you― and you will not
wait for the ghosts to tell,

who was the visitor. You
will not know my future and
I will not know your past.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 10 april 2021

Starburst

After finding the pulse,
you become a man-eater.
Decide to play a volcano―
to solve the mystery
of god.

Shirtless violence,
sells the skin, the vagus
and the cranium.

There was no difference
between black and white. I
had fallen for the crooked―
smile of death.

You appear like a
nymph in my stasis―
of thoughts. I kiss
my hands.

You penetrate in my bones.
O God, you were exactly my image.

Moon stained a poem beseeches
me, to lift my pen.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 9 april 2021

Imperilment

The interstellar
reticence, becomes the
muse of a storm.

*

Departure begins,
when the lights are dimmed.
Night licks the moon.

*

Now, you can
roll up the stings.
Cadaver will not rise.

*

The bell rings―
for the last exhibit.
Moths were waiting.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 8 april 2021

Circling Moons

When the time faults, it
becomes metaphysical for me―
to write a poem in flesh and blood.

A night's terror, descends.
Buzz of an insect hovers,
until I give in.

A thoughtess invasion―
makes you unstable, when
you reach the heights, where
snow wails, time and space
start collapsing.

A vacuum bubble expands
into a dome. You draw frescoes
in dream. The colors penetrate.
Blind landings begin.

Looks as if you were sitting with dead,
till eternity.

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