
Satish Verma, 26 march 2020
It was a strange experience
coming out of the body
to understand the death.
And I watched a train
whistling by―
then I understood,
time will not wait for me.
I started running
against the moon―
to forget the empty dream,
catching a fever.
I am still burning―
in grass, collecting
the dew, falling
from the misty night.
steve, 25 march 2020
I used to dream about you, now those are days gone by...
I learned too well the hard way, how you could make me cry,
I can't explain why I'm drawn to you, because I don't even know...
Maybe in another life, I loved you long ago,
When I'd look into your eyes, it'd take my breath away...
And words did not come easy, for things I wished to say,
I'd gaze upon your beauty, and the world would disappear...
While life goes on around me, it's only you, I'd hear,
I wanted just to love you, the only way I know...
Like a dream the haunts me every night, from a life of long ago,
I thought I knew what love is, but I've never felt such pain...
Tear my heart out of my chest, then do it all again,
I know that you will never care, I know that I'm alone...
I know that you will break my heart because your's is made of stone,
And though the storm is coming, I still want to try...
Because it's easier to say "I love you"... then it is to say "goodbye".
Satish Verma, 25 march 2020
Nothing helps.
The colossus has failed.
A naked fakir-
walks in dark moaning.
You ride a torpedo
to kill the gossips.It
misfires.All around
us is deep water.
An avalanche buries
the camp.You will not
climb the peak now.
The goddess is stripped
and alighted from
the rock.Let us pray
for the wildfire.
The sparks become the tears.
Satish Verma, 24 march 2020
Wearing a straitjacket
you come out in open.
This was a black day.
You were not invited.
The economy smells of stale fever.
A pungent smoke rises
from the joints.
A decision drifts. Scare of
paper bomb stills―
the flow of tea.
There was a party.
People come and go. Skullcaps
galore. White on brown sugar.
There is no love lost between us.
Satish Verma, 23 march 2020
Twitching will not stop
after you hit the bull's-eye.
Somewhere a nightbird,
had a hallucination, moon was
scared to come out.
The game we play all
the time. Tracing blue nudes
on the beds. A gang rape
went unnoticed by the
diehards.
A sphinx was rising in
east. What you have done
to stall the riddle of winged monster
sailing like hawk moth,
drinking your honey?
RENATA, 22 march 2020
skaza wymknęła się
spod kontroli
chwila prawdy nadeszła
nie będzie odkupienia
egzekutor wstanie napięcia
patrzcie
zamknięto wszystkie sklepy
galerie kina i koncerty
to czym żyją paszcze
portfele schudły w barwach głodu
dusić się kisić gnić w domu
rozejdzcie się wszystkie
znaki zodiaku tak trudno
żyć wroku Szczura
tylko jeść spać i srać
zamknięci w kostce Rubika
drugiego człowieka unikać
panika rozprzestrzenia się dalej
domowa kwarantanna -nie kaszleć
powietrza bo ziemia ze swoim urobkiem
będzie jednym wielkim nagrobkiem
RENATA, 22 march 2020
wrzuciłem Ci garść słów
które chciałaś usłyszeć
w kosmiczną ciszę właśnie
miały zabrzmieć jak opłatek
wrzuciłem Ci kłody
mówisz że pod nogi
a ja tylko chcę Cię podnieść
przenieść w swój raj
wrzuciłem Ci garść przekleństw
do ucha
zabijały od środka drżenie rąk
bóle brzucha
gaśniesz i wybuchasz
w drodze do gwiazd
wrzuciłem Ci dysk
zdalnie sterowany do głowy
teraz wiesz co masz robić
mam pilot kierujący twoim ciałem
szczęścia kluczem jesteś -nie szalej
dalej dalej dalej
z godziny na godzinę
robię trampolinę drabinę
gdy cały wejdę
nigdy już nie będziesz
sobą
Satish Verma, 22 march 2020
My unique offer:
I want to embrace your
downtrodden faith.
A continuous buzz makes
me nostalgic of my
rendezvous with a walking
fern in early dawn of
enigma on limestone.
Would you mind to stand still
in blue light to-
read the unwritten command
of astragalus?
Where you want to
go to find yourself in
the black autumn of ashen faces?
The ice. A brittle
transparent truth of water.
Can you walk on the frozen lake
of eyes?
Satish Verma, 21 march 2020
It had touched, the wind
of sky.
The viola goes―
pansexual.
Purple, blue and white
dog violet,
one of the petal was
landing gear for politics.
A fugitive poet
grumbles, eating the dark words.
After suicide, the viscera
was found blank, except
the half-eaten plums.
Satish Verma, 20 march 2020
Don't print on the body
a pattern, grayesh red.
Damask rose?
The cilia will propel you
into the tunnel.
Clowns have assembled
on the street, to write
the history of fall.
Acts of kindness are being
translated into profanities.
You are hurt by the
petals, thrown at you.
Kingmaker, why you have become
a joker?
Red lilies?
Do you like the buttercups?
Eyes ago, there was a bouquet.
I am not sure, why you were walking
on nails.
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