Latest items:

poetry

Satish Verma, 25 april 2024

Quartz

Light digs up the hope.
You appear like pure flint.
Sorrow will tell truth.

Weep weep my sun.
Black hole will swallow you.
No need to drink hemlock.

The blank paper has
hidden markings. God wants
to become mortal.

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

Satish Verma, 24 april 2024

The End Starts

The answers look
at questions, like sparrows
did not find home.

Where wouldgo, the
butterfly poems, to color
the barren thoughts?

You glide like river
of blood in the eyes of
wounded moon.

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

Adam Pietras (Barry Kant), 23 april 2024

Three poems

---Living inside a Master-Piece

Nothing to say living inside a Master-Piece.
As I've been younger - I searched for existential police.

All is left to overlook and to smile
Some challenge zen for a while.

Angelic women believe in something - that's so far from my mind
Although I've become an indifferent kind.

For me? Precisely everything - can be so very nice
As I get my whiskey with ice.

I don't mean there is something too bad
It just looks as I am - of rather ironic clad.

---Regret

There is a little bit of hate in my wound.
Nobody knows how those muddy things

Come inside;

A spark from far away dives into the World
Though it's hard to love one's own dirt.

---With no Craft

Empty sadness as I laid
Though someone - needed me to stay;
And I used to comtemplate this subject:
With no Craft - I found myself an object.

So deeply pleased - as the Other enjoyed my fruits
So I stood up and worn my boots -
Let's take a mile or seven
Follow me - we'll go to Heaven...

number of comments: 7 | rating: 3 | detail

Satish Verma, 22 april 2024

Echoes Travel

Can you foretell of the
death-like the hound― after
the loss of game?

Past my last poems I
will meet you one day
to settle the debts.

I was incomplete
in my wholeness. I will dissect
the words for bleeds.

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

sam53, 21 april 2024

od wewnątrz

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

number of comments: 0 | rating: 2 | detail

Satish Verma, 21 april 2024

Picking Relics

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.

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

Satish Verma, 20 april 2024

To Dying Muse

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?

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

Satish Verma, 19 april 2024

The Voyager

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.

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

Satish Verma, 18 april 2024

Itinerant

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.

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

Satish Verma, 17 april 2024

Between Done And Undone

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.

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

10 - 30 - 100

Latest items:

poetry

Quartz

The End Starts

Three poems

Echoes Travel

od wewnątrz

Picking Relics

To Dying Muse

The Voyager

Itinerant

Between Done And Undone

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