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poetry
Satish Verma, 2 may 2022
Who Answers?
Time
was the great avenger.
It takes you away
into war,
with swan words.
My baby poem
cries. Lost in a crowd of swindlers.
Not finding the home of truth.
Was it a rarified
phenomenon, that it was
a dark nebula,
that gave birth to the sun?
Are you free to
agree with me, with my existence?
The conclusion was
beyond the judgment of insane people.
Are you going to harm yourself
by accepting the fireball questions?
Satish Verma, 1 may 2022
A Window Speaks
Shadows―
were lengthening.
I start mending myself.
Speechless―
you commence telling in signs.
Grass flattened. Glass―
in water. The body floats.
The game was over.
A new chapter opens without a book.
Another spurt of poetry.
I will never forgive me.
Fear becomes my guide.
The sound of decapitation
resonates. I lift the pen
and kill myself.
Satish Verma, 30 april 2022
Inconsistency
Depression―
was deep blue.
In zero-reflux, I was
intimately involved―
with your pride. The conflict
was rising.
Human mind
like shutting off the sex,
was making a bibliography.
Purity of link will
describe a yellow hollyhock,
waiting to be crushed.
It becomes a burden
when I spend on you― my poems.
Chemotherapy had failed.
Jack Strange, 29 april 2022
The Not So Great Gatsby
He, too, saw the promise of a distant light,
but unlike him, he renounced the gold hat,
and unlike her, she did not renounce him.
His parties were simpler, but she was content
with what he could offer: a romantic
readiness, just like his; a gift for hope
for a life together; a capacity
for wonder at the promise of a dream.
Even now he remembered the sad thing
that happened to them -- the deprivation
and the foul dust that floated in their wakes.
But through the smoke he peered into her eyes,
and saw the light there, green as ever,
and knew they’d turn out all right at the end.
Jack Strange, 29 april 2022
Cleaner`
A house is never cleaner
than when unoccupied --
with tables, couches, beds
removed and all inside
accessible to brush,
broom, mop, and vacuum
cleaner.
No resident
had known a cleaner
room.
Jack Strange, 29 april 2022
Witness
Every morning at six-thirty I sit
at that table by the window and drink
my coffee. No, I’m retired. As you see,
I can see that corner, and most days the kids
go there to wait for the bus to take them
to the high school. Usually, it’s two boys
and a girl. No, I don’t know them or their names,
but I’d recognize them. So, they stand there
talking and smoking -- whether cigarettes
or something else I don’t know, but sometimes
they shared it. And I’m thinking the boys shared
the girl too, because one day, one’s kissing her,
the next day, he doesn’t show and she’s kissing
the other. That was yesterday. Then today,
the first boy walks up and bang! bang! -- he shoots
them both, the girl and the boy, point blank
in the head, like Pacino in Scarface. Yes,
I’ll testify. But please catch the little
bastard before he finds out I’m a witness
and pops me too.
Jack Strange, 29 april 2022
I Breathe You
To say “I love you” is equivalent
to saying I breathe air.
Such sustenance
as I derive from oxygen devolves
so liberally, so reflexively upon me,
yet were I deprived of atmosphere,
the words “I breathe” would not avail to fill
my lungs with what they need, nor would the words
“I am a fish” convert my lungs to gills.
Ethereal by nature, not by choice,
I’m bound to love you notwithstanding my voice.
Jack Strange, 29 april 2022
Adamantine
The benchmark of tyranny
is censorship:
once the use of force
rises above the mark,
then even the censor
must drown in the flood
of silence.
Satish Verma, 29 april 2022
Referendum
The sins of mortals
have become ordinary.
You can breathe like
nekton, in deep ocean of
idyllic mind.
Pull out your hubris like
a tinkling coin and rub it with your―
body / let it become dirty.
The wayward emotion and
illuminati will meet for the
first time/on the turf.
Desire wins ultimately.
You pick up a red rose
and place it along the jasmines.
Acceptance comes after the fall.
steve, 28 april 2022
Wish Upon A Falling Star
I sit here on a stary night.. but my thoughts belong to you...
I wish upon a falling star.. in hopes it will come true,
The nights keep getting longer.. and days just come and go...
And I can't help but wonder.. about the love I used to know,
I had hopes and dreams, and plans.. to build my life with you...
And I used to think you felt the same.. but I don't think you do,
I thought our love was strong enough.. to weather any storm...
I used to feel your passion burn.. now its barely warm,
I used to feel the love.. when you told me that you care...
But now I can't remember.. the last good time we shared,
I miss your hands upon me... I long to feel your touch...
I don't think they'll ever be.. someone I love as much,
There goes yet another star.. as it streaks across the sky...
And here goes yet another wish.. that we don't say goodbye,
So I wish upon this falling star.. that the love we had is true...
And may it bring you home to me, with love that we once knew.
Latest comments:
11 october 2024
Belamonte/Senograsta
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... :)))
10 october 2024
violetta
Piękne kwiaty, chcę takie na balkon:)
10 october 2024
Jaga
Zawsze znienacka jesień życia...
10 october 2024
Groch przez wieki był rzucany/ dzisiaj ściana
10 october 2024
Georginie jesienne :)
10 october 2024
Tak :))
10 october 2024
:)
10 october 2024
Muchomor czerwony, trujący. Ponoć wzięty przez
10 october 2024
:))))
10 october 2024
Eva T.
Jadalny?
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
8 october 2024
wiesiek
8 october 2024
Satish Verma
7 october 2024
Jaga