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poetry
steve, 28 april 2020
"Yesterday"
I don't like to think about... how the years have slipped away...
But everytime I think of us... it seems like yesterday,
I think about the times we shared... as two young lover's would...
If only I could turn back time... then you know I would,
But we were young and reckless... and the winds of change did blow...
And I never thought I'd ever be... someone you used to know,
The years have pulled us far apart... from what it used to be...
And I wonder what your life is now... do you ever think of me,
I've not found a single one... that I'd compare to you...
I held perfection in my hands... and let it slip right threw,
Regrets for what I didn't do... keep me living in the past...
There's so much that I want to say... but your not here to ask,
The hollow darkness screams your name... as the echo fades away...
And I am left here all alone... with only yesterday.
Satish Verma, 28 april 2020
False Ceiling
You wanted tranquility
clean and sane,
scudding at persona
impact.
Some thinking disorder?
You start cutting yourself.
Collecting the body parts.
Yellow jasmine. I will know that
I do not know the fields of hate.
When your world falls apart,
what I would do.
Every day
I dig up a sin
with a knife.
Satish Verma, 27 april 2020
What To Think
Cruel times,
and the walls are rising.
The rivals.Medusae versus columns.
Snakes for hairs
opposed to stones.
The bell shaped body with stinging
tongues.
I will not speak.
This is the gift from the womb of
evil.The blues.
Wounded by you.
The color changes.Sunrise to sunset.
You stay in sunroom, in dumbness.
Chilling poverty.
You shake violently.
Give me the skin to cover my bones,
I am bleeding black.You know the tilted moon
still crying.
Satish Verma, 26 april 2020
Dismay
It was not ending, not beginning
this fracas,
to search the exit.
Where to go where to.
The window
has jumped out
from the moon. what was
your ultimate? What was?
The cold-blooded
creepy object
discharging the virulent
flames virulent.
Migratory ink
always lands on the
paper, would not
move the words would not.
Janusz Józef Adamczyk, 26 april 2020
Very shortly
is the matter
and the antymatter
is the Ghost of the Life
and the Gost of the Death
is the consciousness
and of the First and of the Second
and is the soul
as the chanse for the man
Janusz Józef Adamczyk
Świdnik, Poland
25.04.2020
Satish Verma, 25 april 2020
On Blackboard A Chalk Writes
The water breaks.
Do you hear the voices?
I will ask my half self.
The pretension sends
neuroimages.
I am going home to read my horoscope.
Words grieve. I
have done a dream.
Silence sins.
Satish Verma, 24 april 2020
Your Dress Code
Coming back with
nipples and fangs, all
the black visions.
Those lunging at the
helpless prey, a hundred arms,
pythonic- to squeeze
the life out of
the rising voice.
You were my trust,
my secret, then why this
curse,
of your signs, your signature,
your face?
You were me, I was you.
We were not different, I open
my chest to receive the bullets
the stone, the stick.
The words.They swim
like dolphins, whistling
crossing the horizons
reaching beyond the colored dresses.
Satish Verma, 23 april 2020
Leaving The Home
Your hands
start a fire―
thinking beyond the rainbow.
The next hearing
will encompass the unheard sins
of islands.
In spot, you open
the lock and let in the strange voices,
wearing the hidden masks
of untold flaws.
The system starts crumbling
and you wash your feet
in tumbling water
of unsound river, held in abeyance.
No house was left
without ashes.
Satish Verma, 22 april 2020
Penury Ward
In tattered clothes.
I would see my returned privation.
I will make the holes bigger,
so that light seeps in,
on my blackened chest.
The lovers will not meet
today, out, in open;
on moonward path.
The charred remains―
of the rope are visible.
The soaked blanket, to sleep in,
has become infernal.
What are you drinking now?
No other passage,
no exit, even the kiss of death?
RENATA, 21 april 2020
drżenie
presja twojego głosu
i ton pana wszechwłądnego
sprawiają że jestem nikim
trzęsącą się galaretą
popatrz do niczego się nie nadajesz
stawiasz kroki w chmurach
nikt ciebie nie slucha
flegmatyczka nieporadna nieskładna
zabija brak pewności siebie
wzbudza poczucie winy
to własny mąż nikt inny
bez ciebie wreszcze kimś jestem
Latest comments:
15 july 2025
sam53
dwa lata czekam na skierowanie... czy brakuje
15 july 2025
z podziękowaniem za miłą lekturę :)))
14 july 2025
jeśli tylko
włoski pod słońce :))
14 july 2025
Weronika
Chociaż drży dłoń.
14 july 2025
wiesiek
super
13 july 2025
zimują w domu, a latem "ogródkują :)
12 july 2025
AS
genialny wiersz; ukłony i serdeczne pozdrowienia
9 july 2025
violetta
Tak, tylko winko bezalkoholowe:)
9 july 2025
Belamonte/Senograsta
wisi, to był ten sam gagatek, chyba się opamiętał,
8 july 2025
jak ma na imie?
8 july 2025
jeden z nas
8 july 2025
nie da się
15 july 2025
wiesiek
14 july 2025
jeśli tylko
14 july 2025
wiesiek
14 july 2025
Jaga
12 july 2025
wiesiek
10 july 2025
wiesiek
9 july 2025
wiesiek
8 july 2025
wiesiek
7 july 2025
jeśli tylko
5 july 2025
jeśli tylko