sam53, 21 april 2024
czasami błąkam się po naszych pustych nocach
szukam ciebie między słowami pośród oddechów
wyobraźnią zaginam przestrzeń
w której spotykają się nasze usta oczy nosy
pozwalamy sobie na bliskość jak cieniom w zakamarkach piwnic
albo światłom które mnożą się z miłości
nie upominamy się o pocałunki w każdym wierszu
wystarczy że jesteśmy dla siebie
Satish Verma, 21 april 2024
You didn't want to
age, rediscovering,
pain of birth, to live.
To remain atheist
was better than many gods. You
belong to yourself.
Juxtaposed with
blank walls, a bohemian
draws image of sin.
Satish Verma, 20 april 2024
I tried to sleep
under the sun at night. From moon
to moon summoning the pains.
Someone wants to cut
the clouds. I was indebted to darkness.
Blue light comes to kiss me.
The witch-hazel wails.
Let the blood flow from the eyes
of crying earth. Do you listen?
Satish Verma, 19 april 2024
A forgotten truth
lands softly on the wet grass.
I had lost the words.
The moon was cut on
table to taste the honey of
towering love.
The hidden face
in womb of the earth smiles
in darkness of pain.
Satish Verma, 18 april 2024
I would be thinking
of you in dangerous journey.
Who was redeemer?
When tree eats
its own roots, I become
sad. What role I play?
Thoughts tremble.
I cannot stop you burning.
I weep with my God.
Satish Verma, 17 april 2024
Did you open it,
the red rose? Was it a sacrilege
to give an erotic response?
Golden door seldom
opens. We want eye contact
with the sun, envious of the moon.
A cut in pitch black
does not bring the light. The moon
always waits for the lover.
Satish Verma, 15 april 2024
I had my scars.
This war will not end any day,
fighting with my brute.
Your presence I
feel in my wounds. Will not
convert meinto martyr.
Soon I will pick
up bloody path of learning,
what I am, I was.
Satish Verma, 14 april 2024
Migration continues,
me to you. Conception guides
you to deep sea.
At middle― of pain
there can be mass extinction
of thoughts. You stay.
Like printing on
tablet of psyche, my genre of
immortal yearning.
Satish Verma, 13 april 2024
Season's intimacy
starts schooling you. The voice
halts the bloodshed.
From bone to bone.
Love is halved, flesh here
and there. No bargains.
Let me touch your
sprinkling glass, before you move
a step to sip hemlock.
Satish Verma, 12 april 2024
In its entirety your
life was a truth. Then why were
you tethered to sky?
You will shut your
eyes to hide the squint
of moon in distress.
How do I deliver
the pain of crying earth under
the blood clouds?
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