Latest items:
poetry
Satish Verma, 12 december 2019
Deterrence
This September. It is
going to be very quiet.
I am trying to caress
the mimosa, which
always said,
touch-me-not.
The spontaneous probe
will start the construct in love
of philosophy to mimic
the animal plus
the femineity.
A clock was moving
without hands. Time was up
but legs were amputated.
How will you walk
towards your truth?
Satish Verma, 11 december 2019
Recounting
Uncannily sanguine,
wounded by biting gnats―
you return home.
You would call the
family for a final―
drink and
drown the moon.
You have come very
far from the inviting
shores in deep sea―
to be sucked into the
whirlpool of silence―
to end the sounds.
You will not put the
bread upside down. Who
will provide the priceless again?
A small saga of unheard renegade?
RENATA, 10 december 2019
ona szalona
ona by tak chciała
mieć pieniądze
tyle tyle aż
choćby cały bank
ona by tak chciała
uciec stąd
słyszy słyszy głosy
stare jak ten świat
ona by tak chciała
sama być
tak tak realnie
trzeba syna zabić
przyszpilić do łóżka
udusić poduszką
uciec szybko z miejsca
do samego piekła
piekło znajdzie w sobie
na nic jej pieniądze
świata zza krat nie zobaczy
nikt za nią nie zapłacze
Satish Verma, 10 december 2019
Eaten By White Ants
Downy mildew,
blinks. The sun
will not come back
to rein in its own might.
The temple gold,
has come for sale―
in bazaar.
On the balcony, stand
bystanders to witness the free fall.
The black door,
plays hide-and-seek
with light.
Green eyes will now
bargain for hips.
Satish Verma, 9 december 2019
I Will Not Be Silent
Overlooks the juvenility.
The shrinking genitals.
It was the militancy.
The freedom, brought
about by the guns.
Now indiscreetly firing at the sky.
This deadpan delivery
of the shut doors. Economy
has failed the toads,
the croaking minions. A raw
poem speaks now
for the unopened coffins.
The run, the run of the
century begins. Some one was
running, non-stop, from
sleep to sleep, away from the sexual
assaults, from rapes, from
man-slaughter.
Satish Verma, 8 december 2019
Smoke Signals
A severed hand, after
the blast, working on a script
writes about the
musicality of blood.
Blood of moon and trees;
of poems and bees,
contributing to making
of republics of grass.
The roots know the secret
of god and grief of humanity.
The sound ot truth resonates
with the art of dying.
Between the sun-and moon―
under the sky sleeps a
shimmering axe.
Satish Verma, 7 december 2019
Of Land And Ills
The dancing paper,
humilates the pen.
A stunning defeat for morality.
In splendid withdrawl,
the eyelids bear the violence
of soil.
A broken pride
will get back at you.
Step aside. Let the soul read the dewdrop.
The moon meets the
earthen lamp, to understand
the hymns of rag-pickers.
The religion drinks
the aroma of holy vice. Was
there any truth of a beast?
Satish Verma, 6 december 2019
Voiceless Assaults
You are waiting
amid fears. The fretting
does not end.
At where,
the road ends? To find a blue star
where do we go?
The house was
sleeping in fog. Inside the
dome, hooves, quiver.
I have to become
mute. Time was black,
my song blue.
A pure crime.
The vultures come in
cloaks to take away the lamb.
Satish Verma, 5 december 2019
Fading Glory
You want to cover your
amnesia. Death
has no other color.
How far you will go
to retrieve
the sensibility?
Time does not sit idly.
Undeniably your foe―
poisoning the well.
Sky was overcast and
sends misty rain.
Have the heart-leaves and moon-seeds.
The history concedes.
Molybdenum was god,
initiating life on earth.
RENATA, 4 december 2019
dojrzewanie -a jesienią zbierzesz plony
w sadzie wokół jabłoni
twój uśmiech mnie gonił
moje oczy cię rozbierały
a ręce brały
a tam przy starej jabłoni
serce mi dałaś na dłoni
a tam przy młodej gruszy
zakochałam się po uszy
na trawie wśród rumianku
liczyliśmy świerszcze o poranku
graly nam kształty Mendelsona
ty przyszły mąż ja przyszła żona
Latest comments:
13 october 2024
violetta
Fajne bytowania:)
13 october 2024
Imieniny Kota:)
13 october 2024
Belamonte/Senograsta
Jedna pani śpiewała Arię z Carmen tylko dla
13 october 2024
Jaga
taniec pingwina na szkle...
13 october 2024
jeśli tylko
klaskanie jedną ręką
12 october 2024
Weronika
Dialog jednej osoby.
12 october 2024
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 :)
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