Latest items:
poetry
Satish Verma, 1 january 2020
Too Crowded Was Arena
I felt you, through your
words. Tight and
crisp. But you remained untouchable.
For thousand of years
a lity of valley
cried, to get a dove's cooing voice.
The musk deer will not
leave its domain. Some
poems were hungery of its hideout.
An ordinary day of fall
starts the inferno. Syllable
by syllable in colors.
The dilemma of drinking
the hemlock at one go.
How would I describe the ascending paralysis?
Satish Verma, 31 december 2019
Wounded And Alive
In search of wholeness,
the words sit around me
cutting the edge of the corn ear.
A new shibboleth, will
announce the arrival of
a bloody tribe.
In this life cycle, I
will meet you, to kidnap
a Pir for remaining silent.
Who was on the road
to give a sane advice
to the waning roses?
It was not poemtime.
The kids were bleeding
from the barbs of unknown.
Satish Verma, 30 december 2019
How Blue Was My Country
The godman also had
an underbelly.
He lost his vision,
came full circle.
Now paper lamps
float in rows
on tear effect.
An underdog―
becomes a horseman,
follows the royal buggy
with a naked king.
The verdict was
very simple.
It was a nightmare.
Satish Verma, 28 december 2019
Turning To Dark
I believe in you, O tidal
mouth, where the salt
meets the stream.
I never had any God
to put the fish in desert to swim,
and someone can write a poem.
I am not different
beyond the unwritten
miracles. I cannot undo a cliché.
It is still my dharma ―
to listen to unheard cosmic
chants of blue birds.
And I reached the emptiness
of a vessel, which had
spilled over the milk of seeds.
Satish Verma, 27 december 2019
A Spirited Dust
Was it a calculated
risk, when it was poetry,
falling like rains
on the parched lips
of yellowing pages.
Like the stones of a
grey mountain,
singing a hymn to blasts,
pick pocketing the sun?
I start reading the anatomy
of violence, ever, never
easy to understand.
Lots of red blotches
were spread on the tiny figures.
Satish Verma, 26 december 2019
Each Day
The suffering
was suffering.
You pay for it.
There was no point
in returning, to fumble.
Sodium or Potassium
fluoride will make it lethal.
New crack's open the
mind, like a walnut.
God's creation―
lies in halves.
Take it, or reject it,
the maze of words―
describing the brutality
of life's half-truths.
Satish Verma, 25 december 2019
Beyond Words
Skinned alive, as
an aftermath of speaking
against the unhinged
blue gods.
Like cacti: growing
straight towards the sky
exploring the questions,
you open a can of paint.
The secret spills. In
happenings, you will find
some poems, written
for tribes of flowers.
The colors sings at the
feast of tearfalls.
Satish Verma, 24 december 2019
No Revenge
Penultimately,
I pick up my choice
of not accepting my defeat.
The grades were falling.
Yet my limbs move
on fine grains of salt.
I will write, blue names
with chalk
on the blackboard of―
a teacherless life.
The disasters had helped me
to redefine the attachments.
The jail-break was
imminent Moon was coming
out from the nemesias.
Satish Verma, 23 december 2019
The Deep Cut
Under your baton,
The targets are being
identified. Moon will
find out the hiding
of muse.
A purple rhythm
will not be stymied
in bud. Hold the
ground. Sun was setting
very soon.
I have not heard the
boots of departure
as yet. The music
will go on till the
last breath.
A very positive black.
With closed eyes, you
sit in meditation―
until the flames arrive.
Satish Verma, 22 december 2019
What Was Left
A veiled threat,
a muffled cry. It was not human.
No beast, no monster
yet unhuman.
The feel of wolf's
lair, was there in dark.
Anything would happen.
You wanted to become
a self-proclaimed divine Being.
Yet, you were not a god.
A black pit opens. Do not shout.
The clogged artery had bursted.
I give you back your city
you can scale the high wall
and jump into eternity.
Latest comments:
13 october 2024
jeśli tylko
klaskanie jedną ręką
12 october 2024
Weronika
Dialog jednej osoby.
12 october 2024
Belamonte/Senograsta
no, też tak mam, nie wiem co się porobiło,
12 october 2024
prawie wszystkie wiersze są o przyrodzie
12 october 2024
tyle się o niej mówi, a dziwi, że przyszła..
12 october 2024
Nie da się ich hodować na balkonie :)
12 october 2024
takie mam blado liliowe, chłodne. Ale kwitną
12 october 2024
tak proste a plastyczne :)
12 october 2024
jest klimat :)
11 october 2024
to ciekawe, to może piszesz programy dla szkół?
11 october 2024
Dziękuję, widzę że nie wiem co z tego co
11 october 2024
sam53
jesień tak ma... :)))
13 october 2024
wiesiek
13 october 2024
Satish Verma
12 october 2024
wiesiek
12 october 2024
Satish Verma
11 october 2024
wiesiek
11 october 2024
Satish Verma
10 october 2024
wiesiek
10 october 2024
Jaga
10 october 2024
Eva T.
10 october 2024
Satish Verma