Latest items:
poetry
Satish Verma, 28 march 2022
Keeping Head High
Ah, in this―
culture of shames
you will need some divination
for mooning around.
You cannot mend the old
shoes, become an explicator―
of complex human mind.
Cannot face the sun to
catch my shadow. Father and
son were water apart.
The things become no-things
inestimable. I keep on intuiting..
First came the rains,
then winds. I stand for nation.
I fall for you.
Satish Verma, 27 march 2022
Arts In Telling
I will never be able to―
tell the full story. Winds
are changing and―
the innocence has ended.
Centuries of recital now
starts the inquisition. It haunts
my psyche. In deluge―
the ferry will ever come?
Yesterday you had seen me
in a very vulnerable state.
Even gods weep.
Do you know what is muse,
goddess of art and an inspiration
of a poet?
In one of the poem I had
asked my muse, can you prey for me?
This is my style of conversational
or confessional poesy.
What do you say?
Satish Verma, 26 march 2022
Some Rehearsals
Talking to moon tonight,
in windless night.
You begin― to reflect― the past.
I pretend― I am gifting you
my poems, while bleeding―
from the eyes.
You will not read,
even once, the steaming tears of stones,
when the volcano―
spews its molten grief.
I am gifting you today, forever―
my summers.
Snow will rush into my veins.
I freeze at once, in memories
of the lone, stark naked, yew tree
laden with red berries.
Not poisonous, I am gifting you
my death.
Take me in your solitude!
Satish Verma, 24 march 2022
The Blessings Fail
It was too loud
to become a savior. You
longed for― only a
flower weight.
I wanted it to last―
my pain― lying to myself.
I will wait for the
sanity to reappear.
Too raw― the codex.
It burns the author. I
will have to learn―
a new alphabet.
The bell tolls,
bell tolls.
Take me to crypt in dark.
I have to read the walls again.
Satish Verma, 22 march 2022
No Man's Land
It was an explicit "I"―
deeply flawed.
You had started hitting
your peers, asking them
to hate you.
Psychopath?
Mea culpa, who would not say?
Kindles a tender feel―
when you love a pink rose,
not uttering a word.
Scared, my tremors
start like a leaf. Cannot hold
the pen. Very quietly
I print my tears.
Thirst, mouthless―
I drink from eyes.
Earth beware― the crop has failed.
Rancher was going―
to commit suicide.
Satish Verma, 21 march 2022
Straight From Dark
Moon was walking
like your shadow,
grabs you from behind
and drowns you
in water.
This was a battle cry
for a beach murder.
This will a become a talk
of the crowd.
Light enters a bone
and you start glowing.
Was it a realization
of the awakening? The
pain becomes your angel―
of skin.
The cuts and wounds become
your words of unknown poem.
Why you want to play
hide and seek with strangers?
Satish Verma, 20 march 2022
Red Light
A maverick―
neither tears, nor scabs
I wanted to cheat myself.
Confection may go awry.
I prepare the new text
of wearing the pain.
I want you to stay
beside me, when I am unseated―
holding the clouds.
Discarding golden viscera.
This was my last journey
for taking revenge.
Undulation over. There
will be a vertical
drop on the nails.
On the black stones a fig tree wavers.
Satish Verma, 19 march 2022
In Reversal
The philanderer―
an anti-man, comes for regaining
moral conscience. I
pledge my peels.
Ocimum was not ready
to marry a giant tree.
This war will never be over.
The skin, the deep voice
within, were wakeful in dark. There
was no hope to revive the naked soul.
The sea and the whale.
Competing for death-dance.
Blue sky kills the stars.
Now I will become mute,
watching the jewel-thief…
taking away the golden calf.
Satish Verma, 18 march 2022
In Ecstasy And Pain
Stargazing
under a new sky.
Buried in the sands
of time,
to locate the gate of moon.
Nothing else moves
in my thoughts, except
a Venus fly-trap.
Your hinged, slanted
eyes, capturing my words.
Then your maze bleeds
in the spotless dawn
of baby year.
Between a mortal
and a saint.
I hang my mirror
to prove the divinity of the dust
of god.
Satish Verma, 17 march 2022
A Life's Worth
The brown dust―
floats, while reading
poetry.
It was my first―
love with the dancing words
in the jungle of departures.
The genocide of―
reliefs. I erect a shrine
for the slaughter of unknown.
Innocently, I utter―
your name in dark, that
lights up the aubade.
Strange things happen.
I stand where the roads don't cross
parting the emptiness.
The deadpan. Another city falls.
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
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
8 october 2024
wiesiek
8 october 2024
Satish Verma