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poetry

Satish Verma, 27 january 2015

ACTUALIS

There was a strange carnality
in flowing robes,
a waiver penetrates
in incorporeal ellipse.
I must speak of him in his absence
combating for the actuality.

Knowing lust manifolds,
yields a prayer,
primrose opens the eyes.
The knowledge liberating -
you cross the inlets.

Anxiety peels off your mind.
An obnoxious presence of unbeings,
the weeds, the vocal generation
of priests, are anything but art.

The body blooms, in suicidal note.
Birds shriek, before the moon climbs
on the dark trees. I let go the orange,
only the white spreads.

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Satish Verma, 26 january 2015

OTHER GOD WAS SLEEPING

Time within the earth hour
was lengthening.
The other god was sleeping.

Becoming was inviting the death
while climbing.
Frostbite amputates the memory.

Ending without beginning,
I was asking the seeker to stop
searching the answers.

The houses were burning on the road,
silence, had a vertical sound,
no words, no tongue.

Death had tears of blood
riding on the horseback
it was charging on the wandering incense.

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Satish Verma, 25 january 2015

ALONENESS OF FIRE

He was asking for, at least,
a passive euthanasia.

Rage or hostility
was giving pain to phantom limbs.
Race puts forth,
a trembling version
of ethnic choice.
A piped dream
which never took off.

On middle of the road
a dragon rumbles,
hissing flames.
Something not on the left
not on the right.
Cannot keep the sky open.
Nothing moves now,
not even leaves of a lone tree.

There was a random cry
unheard in the aloneness of fire.

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Bunny Crunch, 24 january 2015

Stars and Stripes

I wasn't too young to remember
When you came to see me in November
And took me gently in your arms
Taking my mind off its alarms
It was so wonderful to see you there
To rock with you in Grandma's rocking chair
I thought you were the coolest guy in the world
Not simply because up against your chest I curled
Your cashmere cradled me in love and a hug
The warmth and joy spreading quicker than a bug
Your voice was the smile in those paralyzing winds
Melting away the great world of my sins
You took me in as your little girl
Your arms cradling my locks of curl
You remembered me while you weren't home
Making joy echo across my heart like a dome
Breeding my exponential admiration
Of your every imperfection
I love you, Chris
If I remember anything, it's this:
That you're my hero and I can help not but smile when I see you
For there's no way I can be blue
When you give up your time for me
And love anyone I want to be
Spunky, sweet, and funny too
With you I don't know what to do
Just like a renewing river
Of love and fun you are my giver
They may say with you things have nothing to do
But they do, 'cause I admire you
You are everything I want to be
And the good in me you can always see
One of the things, though, that separates us
Is that you are a soldier magnanimous
You are a pilot
Flying by my tears of violet
In the skies of foreign countries far away
Instead of seeing me by day
I rarely see you anymore
The man that I still so adore
If give anything to hear your gentle voice
And if only I could see you I would ceaselessly rejoice
The fact that I can't ever see your face
Turns my emotions to a basket case
All I have are photos now
While in Kuwait you will soon take a bow
One of you blowing out a birthday candle
Is a little more than I can handle
After all these gifts without you there
Lying motionless in Grandma's rocking chair
I can only long to feel you there
To feel you gently stroke my hair
Without you life means not as much
Without your hugs or gentle touch
You think the way I do about
Most everything, and there's no doubt
With a soft tear welling in my eye
I long not to say goodbye
Can pray only that you will be not next to die
You are my father's godson
But it's clear that you're the one
Who I connect with more
So I wish that you'd be at my door
Waiting there to greet me with a hug
So I can cling to you like a water bug
For my birthday I wish that you could land
And walk with me slowly on the sand
And tell me that you're proud of me
For you are all I want to be
This February I'll look to the sky
And see my Blackhawk flying by
I'll walk alone beneath the stars
And think of time that once was (h)ours
Back home I miss you far too much
And the stars are clearly comfort such
For you fly among them, making them shine
And one of them you cast down to be mine
Shining as brightly as the sparkle in your eyes
Like you it may make me wise
And guide me through my darkest night
With a fleeting memory of you that I pray is right
Anytime I miss you I can wear some gentle stripes
Like the fading ones on Grandma's rocking chair which in my memories are ripe
Every night I cling to my teddy bear
And think of how you have less hair
Like the bear in that old-fashioned storybook rhyme
And I'll wish that back could be that time
They tell me that I'll have some more
When you come back to your family's door
In six months' time you will return
And elation in my heart may burn
For they tell me that you'll give me a day
To from the world get away
You and I may be together
A time which time's great ball can't tether
I would give my life to see you again
You're my favorite of all other men
But for now, I'll remember how it felt to rock with you
And in all that ever I will do
I'll listen to the wind and let it carry me back
To the last time I heard your voice telling me that you don't slack
That I should do some cardio
So I can survive within the zombie radio
That once I do, you'll help me shoot a paintball gun
And around the city we can run
That I finally can drive your car
Provided I don't leave a scar
I cling to these memories like I did to you back then
When I had no fear that I'd see you again

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Satish Verma, 24 january 2015

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Satish Verma, 23 january 2015

ASIA AT THE EDGE

I wished
a solitary temptation,
to write off karma
and become responsible for the spattered blood.
You were generating hatred, Asia,
in the land of Buddha.
I can hear the glaciers receding.

Answerable to belonging,
the change of generations,
makes me free to become deaf and dumb.
Only I wanted to see, and see through
burning walls,
the hands, who lighted the torch
to burn the transparent shame.

Rejecting the original script
of fighting a god, in the midst of
non-truths, how far the time will decide
the destiny of man? I break off
from the cliches, wait for the leaves to fall
and its drifting darkness on the open land
of wounded whispers.

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Joe Breunig, 22 january 2015

Poem: Intellectual Pollution

The shades of gray are nearly infinite-
mirroring attitudes regarding our sin.
Degrees of separation give distinction
to human perception of ugliness within.

Living now in this ‘Age of Information’
has not made life much more palatable;
visible is God’s Truth and Satan’s lies,
as individuals determine what’s palpable.

Gobs of available data doesn’t translate
into experience and useful wisdom directly.
Real sapience, is shown by the Holy Spirit,
when the ideas of faith are under scrutiny.

Biblical principles enable all to overcome
corrosive powers of intellectual pollution;
however, personal change, only occurs when…
one has the mindset for a Heavenly solution!

Author Notes

Inspired by:
1 Cor 2; Phil 4:4-8

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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xxxxoxox, 22 january 2015

Nothing Can Save You

It creeps in,
Like a theif through the back door,
It breaks you down,
Worse than a war,
You crawl on your knee's,
To try and hide,
But it always finds you,
And makes you want to die,

There is no white light,
And the end of this black road,
There is no holy ghost,
That will take home,
Pray to your gods,
And to your priests,
Nothing can save you,
From whats tormenting me,

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Satish Verma, 22 january 2015

HISTORY WAS WALKING

Death in meadow
on leaves, under the sky.
History was walking over the bodies
of those who were in service
to move the wheels of sorrow.

The horror sinks slowly.
They were killed without war.
Unpaid debts of life, conflicts
at home. Amidst the laughter
somebody hangs in a noose.

Cry, cry, the possessed one,
your script had failed you.
Your chosen god was fake one
your unknown fear was real -
under the veil of sky-blue peace.

The faith has a price now,
put up for sale on the combed street,
from the opening of a number.
No wages are fixed for lying deep
round the pain of centuries.

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Satish Verma, 21 january 2015

DIALOGUE ON NON-DEATH

Drowning her children
back in her womb,
a big tear rolls down the cheek of earth.
She was sitting on broken bones
to watch the terror,
ear for ear to listen,
eye for eye to see.
Hope was becoming ephemeral.

Nostalgia for breathing in,
the scented grains of death’s fruit,
no analogue, no relics of blood
and a ceremony of water, soil and wood.

All gone. It is a battered rubble
back to back, autoclaved, clean.
We walk back, heads bowed, shaven,
absolutely fouled with no immediate answer.

Was there a dialogue on non-death?

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10 - 30 - 100

Latest items:

poetry

ACTUALIS

OTHER GOD WAS SLEEPING

ALONENESS OF FIRE

Stars and Stripes

STARS WERE BLACKENING

ASIA AT THE EDGE

Poem: Intellectual Pollution

Nothing Can Save You

HISTORY WAS WALKING

DIALOGUE ON NON-DEATH

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