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poetry
Satish Verma, 21 august 2024
Inventory Of Pain
Lying on bed of
thorns, you revoke the curse
of moon to remain amputee.
This was signature
therapy to become secular.
You rub the side of flame.
My dissent was
natural. Cannot speak any lie.
Will listen to my ethos.
Satish Verma, 20 august 2024
Till Every Song
Always waiting of
your footfalls to spend
the rest of life.
If I must go,
will you say goodbye to a
lone tree sawaying in fire?
The romance of
river was unique. It always
gallops to meet a planet.
Till you speak, can
I kiss you, so that nightingale
sings sweetly.
Your deep and dark,
eyes always send the
boatsto find harbor.
Satish Verma, 18 august 2024
Felling A Tree
It was the intense
pain, when you turned suddenly
to watch the queen's dilemma.
Seldom you go for
apartheid. What was the space
between the grains?
Roll up your sleeves
and walk out the door to meet
the snake charmer in light.
A sliver supports
the kiss of unaltered agony and
that human touch saves life.
A flock of birds
commits suicide, crashing
on the fractured faith.
Satish Verma, 15 august 2024
Love And Revenge
You shine high
when I was in dark. The
persecution still goes on.
What was love crime,
when you sleep in my arms
for eternity?
Who had angered
the flame of forest, that was
burning you without ash?
Tell me what blooms
in your chest, when at night
you look at the full moon.
I cannot assassinate
me, till you say goodbye
under the Bo tree.
Satish Verma, 14 august 2024
Anchor Buried In Clouds
A dimpled moon
crosses your path. The surred
loop empowers me.
I catch the fire
of loves echo in valley
of tears.
Don't break this
mad world for the sake of
your enemy's dream,
A tiny dot grows
into a big wound of your
lips to write a poem.
The blood-colored
pain overwhelms the eye
of hiding Sun.
Satish Verma, 11 august 2024
Walking In Twilight
Have you ever seen,
how the moon rises to tell the
story of slaying?
December was white,
I scramble to plank the blog
was to warn you.
The stillness quivers
words flow in icy air to
fix a tattoo on your arm.
You give a hearty
laugh, winning a race on
stingy thorns.
Your secret journey
begins like an odyssey to meet
your eternal pain becoming a god.
Mustapha Maaroufi, 10 august 2024
Shirt
That beautiful shirt hanging
Above the face of the wall
Has the right to rebuke his collar
If it seizes the opportunity of the night
And goes too far in elegance
To the point of obvious exaggeration.
Satish Verma, 10 august 2024
Hope Dies Daily
I was extremely
hurt. Your taped lips won't kiss.
I will die hundred moons.
Can you give me
freedom from the pink rocks
of salt and snow.
I think, I should not
drop your name at the edge
of my trembling poems.
I walk in sleep
to listen to your surrender
before the bald eagle.
You were always in
hurry to shut the book
of life without reading it.
Mustapha Maaroufi, 9 august 2024
A Cat in The Public Street
And I said:
"For which sky do my suns travel
And convince the sea in my palms to be level?
Is there a sheikh in the tribe
of noble character
Who will exempt my mirrors from the whims of horses?"
Today I should scoop the mud
Under the old shadows
I have come to desire to be a neighbor of the lakes
To throw on the edge of the water a fertile project
To open one day in the face of our visions
Its high windows,
If one day I returned to the sea I will bless it
And sew a shirt of the beginning in his hands
Extend its waves with the dignified screams
To become later able to be
As it is
And not afraid if It wear bright shells on a holiday day...
_____
The cat ran secretly
To the public street
Saw a bus swaying
In arrogance
And saw a tower that continued to descend
And a woman who revealed herself
While he _ the cat _ began to doubt
About the extent of his ability to meow properly.
Satish Verma, 9 august 2024
Footprints On Sands
It was to happen
from known to unknown,
sibylline hands held the head.
This was my first
love to catch the tears of moon.
Honey drips. From where bees come?
After I gained you in light,
I lost you again in deep dark.
Birth of venus was rehearsed.
Why did you paint
your name on forehead to
attract the dying desire?
The poetry decides the
fate of falling star on the hey,
before you burn your port.
Latest comments:
22 november 2024
Jaga
Noc bardziej wrażliwa...
22 november 2024
U mnie dopiero dzisiejszy poranek pod śniegiem
22 november 2024
jeśli tylko
a może po prostu płynąć, akceptując życie,
22 november 2024
też wczoraj fociłam róże :)
22 november 2024
choćby do początku..
22 november 2024
:))
22 november 2024
W lesie dłużej trwa rozbieranie, nawet do wiosny
22 november 2024
Eva T.
Niesamowity klimat. Boje sie.
22 november 2024
:)
22 november 2024
Zawsze mile widziane :)
22 november 2024
Fajne :)
21 november 2024
Gdybym ci ja umiała ;) Ale zanucić można jakby
22 november 2024
wiesiek
22 november 2024
Jaga
22 november 2024
Eva T.
21 november 2024
wiesiek
21 november 2024
Jaga
20 november 2024
wiesiek
19 november 2024
Eva T.
19 november 2024
wiesiek
19 november 2024
Jaga
19 november 2024
.