Satish Verma, 13 february 2023
Your lips start
quivering, when I touch your
intimate aura.
My defence was
always neat, not to be
misled in half-light.
Why do we suffer
in the hands of the unknown,
when we know the ending?
Satish Verma, 12 february 2023
You own your breath,
talking to dust adrift.
Earth was dark and cool.
Heaven was hot bright.
Velvety black
night falls on the flowers
coming to see moon, like
in passive surrender.
A cloud sits on the
eyes. You were in haste.
There is no beginning, no end.
Salt water was panacea.
Death never comes
alone to carry the old
bags. Names were grafted in
the brown leaves.
Senograsta, 11 february 2023
Jak piękna pani wysyła mi wypuszcza obrazy by żyły poza nią
tak ja wypuszczam pijawki z moją krwią do rzeki
Krew dojdzie do Pradżapatiego za horyzontem
a jak do zakola tajemnic to tam będę trwał w zanikaniu Marzanny
Czego szuka życie i istota? Dobrej śmierci Dla ryby i pijawki
Dobra śmierć to życie
Czy dla śniegu stopnieć jest bólem
Czy będziemy go trzymywać sztucznie przy życiu
Czy niezliczone robaki co tworzą mnie
będą mnie tworzyć poza granice mego trwania?
To ostatnie życie trupa to też tylko rozpad i rozłączanie
Chcą zginąć w szczękach We mgle i oddaleniu
bo taki ich los i przeznaczenie
Moje ciało też chce się rozpadać gubić ślady a potem rozpaść
I to jest wypłynięcie krwi z wierszem I to jest życie
Bo teraz proszę piękną o obrazy a może byłem już o nie proszonym
Bo mamy czas..
Satish Verma, 11 february 2023
This saga follows
the stargazing of one
buried ethos.
Where the words stop
to transcreate the ruins of
hymnic heritage.
You cannot change
the world. World will change you
at the end of gaze.
Satish Verma, 10 february 2023
Coming of age
in dark waters of thoughts―
to swipe the moon.
Half-bread was
not sufficient for the earth.
We need some sky.
Words don't come
easy, from the scythe, to draw
a line on face.
steve, 9 february 2023
You say that I don't give, the kind of love you need...
I say to have a forest, you first must plant a seed,
It isn't that there isn't love, it's not like I don't care...
It's just the things that matter most, are things that we don't share,
I don't need to tell you, again the way I feel...
For if you cannot hear me, these wounds will never heal,
There's not a day that passes, that your not in my heart...
And not a day that passes, that we don't tear apart,
I've heard it's just a fine line, between what's love and hate...
But the clock for us is ticking, and "time won't stop" to wait,
I wonder if things were different how happy we could be...
If we break the chains of anger, and set our spirits free,
As long as we hold to pain, these chains will hold us down...
And we'll look back at what was lost and love we never found,
I don't know if you hear me, or if were too far gone...
But I'm out here on this ledge alone, for us I'm holding on.
Satish Verma, 9 february 2023
Don't bury my pain
in your sad blinking eyes.
It won't fill the void.
Who was evolved
from a cruel beast into
a human being?
Some pieces of
divinity survive in the
bright passion flowers.
Satish Verma, 8 february 2023
The lunacy of
touching you, to plug a―
hole, in your innocence.
I wanted to explore
the horizon in your eyes,
where sun meets moon,
in graveyard of sins
and virtues.
Before you had become
my shadow, I used to smell
a distant scent coming
from a slithering
wet body.
I fumble for the words
for mercy of pain. My desert
was once a sea.
Satish Verma, 7 february 2023
To begin again,
the travesty of understanding
life.
A mole, a warton
the face of fractured psyche,
I will never know you.
Generations bleed,
to feed the corpse flower―
of fraternity. I go
insane.
Going beyond the
touch of your life, I begin
to shred my forbidden
sin.
You know what
was classic love, to burn
like a moth on flame.
Satish Verma, 6 february 2023
Stay till end of
my poem, for
dying sun.
Howling winds searched
my body, my soul
when I stood alone.
The blue scorpion knows
its religion. That was predation.
Landfall for hungry.
If the blood leaks,
the victim sings for moksha.
Milking starts.
The golden leaves
are peeled off from the moon.
No night was safe.
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