Latest items:

poetry

Satish Verma, 20 march 2018

Spotlessly

It was the day of
dead patriarch.
I was fondling an echidna.

The home was
carried away in the─
storm. Must find a broom.

On the remains─
of a burned-out soul.
A hope sits on the altar.

A piano drenched in rain─
will not sing in the gale.
The sky will collapse─

one day, I will bring
back the bluebird,
for a revenge.

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Satish Verma, 19 march 2018

Unforgiving

Festival of─
earthen lamps.
Separating the grain from chaff.

*

Pigeons will─
not be let out to fly.
It is going to be a moonless night.

*

The skin has peeled off.
Time to move on.
The bared trees.

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Satish Verma, 18 march 2018

Capsized Boat

A dynast in the storm-razed
polity will ask─
for a pardon.

By choice there was
no suicide. You will
eat the clouds one day.

Taking the brunt, ─
living near the sea of
people, a window goes shut.

Curtly, with
levitation, the wind
twists, one and everybody.

An owl tattoo, will
tell it all. The hurricane
has reached your door.

Aftermath was a
conspiracy of silence.
Every one was speaking of landfall.

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Paweł Szkołut, 17 march 2018

Each day gives birth to a poem

Each day gives birth to a poem
emerging from the whitness of morning
like Venus from the sea foam

its words embrace the world
with colorful threads of meanings
and encircle it with the garlands of metaphors

every day gives birth to a poem
sober by the sun rays,
intoxicated with dew and rain

its words are flying to the sky
like birds
to measure by their wings
the spaces of freedom

each day gives birth to a poem
in the palaces of imagination,
its words commence there
where the night
of nonexistence ends

in the evening, when the day is
passing away
in the embraces of darkness –
the poem remains forever
imperishable
like Logos

X 2002

number of comments: 1 | rating: 1 | detail

Satish Verma, 17 march 2018

Barreling

The limbs had the raw strength.
They were learning
to walk on the water.

The silver axe
will hack off the neck
after the daunting recovery.

In gestational surrogacy,
you don’t want
the incisors.

To kill a wanderer,
you need a howling─
wind, fledged.

A shoebox contains
the handprints of a skeleton
and liquid eyes.

The hunger has a blue
desire. A savage bite
will bring out the space.

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Satish Verma, 16 march 2018

Bruised Spots

After the deluge: dark,
where the river,
meets the sea-
a city becomes a ghost.

*

The narrator,
went to sleep,
A story moved on.

*

A replica
steps out from the black
water, white
as the moon.

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

Satish Verma, 15 march 2018

The Essential

Night was all black.
I could not find my
hands / half-dead─

velvety ribs. I want
to rub the spikes and─
toe the line of hurricane.

The naked eye, a-roving
will search for the moon
as the superstorm was─

poised for a landfall.
To receive the wrath─
the ants will find the─

watermark and move to
higher grounds. The sea
throws up the secret of unknown.

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Satish Verma, 14 march 2018

After Leaving The Home

Superstorm
outside. Inside a deep
ocean, thoughtless.

*

You want to know
the boundaries of scent.
A musk deer wonders.

*

After the death─
of hurricane, would you
come to see my hibiscus?

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

Satish Verma, 11 march 2018

Nothing Left To Hide

Your skin was involved─
in recent string of shadows, throwing
the white shrouds on unknown
faces. The visibility
becomes a threat, plying like a black river
via stone links.

Your muscles twitch and
convulse. An invisible hand
writes the judgement. A silent
November looms large.
I will wait for the snow to
fall silently on the sun-dial.

Like silent shedding of petals
counting the dew drops on grass.
A tree of bones walks
from death to death. Me standing
on crossroads, on the moon’s path
trying to learn the mistakes.

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

Satish Verma, 10 march 2018

Slanting The Picture

This road
does not lead to my home.
Do I ask the lake?
*
Tonight, the moon
shows a wrinkled face
and depression.
*
An untitled
poem, will find a blank
page of life.

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

10 - 30 - 100

Latest items:

poetry

Spotlessly

Unforgiving

Capsized Boat

Each day gives birth to a poem

Barreling

Bruised Spots

The Essential

After Leaving The Home

Nothing Left To Hide

Slanting The Picture

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