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poetry

Satish Verma, 19 february 2015

LIPS OF MOON WERE HOT

Eggs went freezing in the sap.
Lips of moon were hot.

In the flare up, the
rebel had cast doubt
on cartridge.

Missiles were unique
but, hands trembled -
concept of sky was a lie.

Saturn and moon were coming closer.
Two way mirror of sun
was watching.

The fallen leaves on grass
refuse to be blown away.
They were waiting for the fruits.

Once in a blue lake
you had cheated the boat,
you may not be lucky this time.

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Satish Verma, 18 february 2015

STILL BIRTH

Roses had gone wilting
after surgery.
Biovision
of acrylic lenses
was projecting a corrupt green mount.
The rubber king had a papery laugh.

How you deal with a maverick –
matter – of – factly?
Pall bearers of a tall legend
were carrying nitroglycerine sticks
unfazed.

Saboteurs of moon night were scheming.
I was sick of pretentions.
Brown and black scars
become a honeycomb
hiding the agenda.

Stigmatized devotion gets back at you
after still birth of truth.
I will wait sine die for the verdict
of hope.

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Satish Verma, 17 february 2015

ALL THE EMPTY HANDS

To catch himself
he jumped into fishpond
becoming opaque
between silk and lethal crotch.
Milk of silence started flowing
from earth’s breast.

His name was a flower
who was a blind witness
of the love-
for a moon
which plunged into a lake without a bottom.

Pain is spilled since then
on the charred lips.
Marigold–
waits for the sun
to rise only once.

All the empty hands
carry one eye
of the seeds,
to sprout in jungle of smiles.

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Satish Verma, 16 february 2015

GIVE ME SOME POISON TO LIVE

Give me,
some poison to live
I had been dead
for many years.

I burn my hands on a flame,
blank space has started talking.
I am ill at ease –
My lips are not moving.

The pellets, the bullets, the steel –
nothing matters now.
Dirty games can go on,
I am going on bromides
to ejaculate the pain.

Sleep will not come in dark
nor the relief in white robes.
I will remain awake till eternity.

Give me,
some thorns to bleed.
Rose petals
are hurting now.

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Satish Verma, 15 february 2015

FLY-TRAP

You are not me.
It was not gentle,
it was not sweet.
It was fire in the glass.

One yellow rose was opening up
in a very bright night.
I was shivering
under the leafless shade of hawthorn.

One surrogate mother
picks up the wormholes.
One tendril oscillates
to entwine the lover.

Stealthily, the sad moon slides
into the big bosom of clouds.
My eyes now search,
the bared, Venus fly-trap.

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Dan Mazurek, 14 february 2015

I Love You

Touch my heart and feel
the warmth of the sun.

Touch my hands to experience
a labor of love.

Kiss my lips to fingerprint time
in a memory.

See me deeply sign to seal
forever today.

Gaze into my eyes to finally
answer why.

Catch your breath to live
forever knowing.

"I love you"

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Satish Verma, 14 february 2015

DEBTS OF GRATITUDE`

Wanted to pay
debts of gratitude.
There was a call from evergreens,
he was not ready to go.

Standing in pit of snakes
he was preparing himself for a random fang,
throat like a blue-bird
waiting for a song.

The solid waste of numerals
across the thinking,
developed plaques, while philosophy
was accepting innovation.

The authority had started
reading the couplets.
Glory came earlier
sea cracked into shells.

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Debadarshi Panda, 14 february 2015

SMILING; THUNDERS OF GRACE LASTING WITH MEMORY

Oh Muse!
You came down with thunders of grace,
Smiling- raising voice of the lagged soul-
Stifled; illness that no more dare venture
An appearance into my courtyard, all blissful !

Stymied- the dry leaves follow lifelessly-
But no more-tide can turn to this fragility;
Your august arrival, worshipped with all faith,
Lord’s decree, I will -to stars eternity!

Flashes -but brightly strong- pen marches,
In dense crowd of prejudice- but trust,
Divinity has its trace- in your words;
Cold- will no more shiver, frost.

Quest-reaffirms, your words to guiding lamp-
Years of jolt-shattered morale emerges to light,
Of ethereal beauty, lasting with my memory-
The sun,stars; destined confluence, happily script .

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Satish Verma, 13 february 2015

DEATH ON GRASS

Sometime, somewhere I will break
into many moons -
an oblique answer to a terrestrial question
of a pale river.

The heat is on, because of the
fatal mistakes. Violence has pregnancy.
Walls stand alone without a roof
hauling the suicidal balloons.

Blue berries are becoming scarce.
Vision short, we cannot see in the night.
Crystals in candlelight become green,
images creeping tall under the trees.

Of total failure, the chemistry of love
patches up with arithmetic of aristocracy.
Spoils the show of neutrality
in sky, hurting the gods.

I am stuck with autistic heroes
in poor desert of a waking sun.
Death on grass will never show
the second birth of the pain.

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Joe Breunig, 12 february 2015

Poem: Untroubled Heart (II)

O Lord, perfect Your sacred Love in me;
show me how to have the proper boldness
for conducting myself humbly each day;
only a covering of Your righteousness

will allow me to enjoy Your new mercies.
Teach me to appreciate Your divine Grace;
please insure that I’m not after Your hands
of blessing, but that I’m seeking Your face.

I’m diligently feasting on Your Holy Word;
sate my spiritual hunger and thirst for You!
You are the Bread of Life and Living Water;
I’ve experienced that Your promises are true!

Let me be fully consumed with Your Presence,
whereby I live as a Your, poetic work of art;
O Lord, when my trust rests in You alone,
I possess a peaceful and untroubled heart.

Author Notes

Inspired by:
1 John 4:17; John 6:35; Eph 2:10

Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ

By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2015, All rights reserved.

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10 - 30 - 100

Latest items:

poetry

LIPS OF MOON WERE HOT

STILL BIRTH

ALL THE EMPTY HANDS

GIVE ME SOME POISON TO LIVE

FLY-TRAP

I Love You

DEBTS OF GRATITUDE`

SMILING; THUNDERS OF GRACE LASTING WITH MEMORY

DEATH ON GRASS

Poem: Untroubled Heart (II)

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