Latest items:
poetry
Satish Verma, 20 july 2019
Cracked Open
Living my own way
like flint,
you will not read
my cosmology.
We two, keep quiet in―
the same book― I
want to read some
hidden message from you.
A day slips into night.
What a consumption of will.
The train stops at the terminus―
without a traveler.
Stepping out, from the
grave of body― you will throw
a reflection, of the nerves,
in a wreath.
Satish Verma, 19 july 2019
The Benevolence
Borderless pain was
said untold. I am writing
a new chapter of night.
The somatic scent―
does not rise now, for the peaks
dissecting the snowy falls.
Racial climbdown
brings friction amids the uniqueness
of downtrodden dolls.
There was an intense―
urge to rip open the endless sky―
to find the secret of blackness.
The fabled light,
fails to distinguish between
eyes and ears. A blind man
will not find the shape
of truth by noises.
Satish Verma, 18 july 2019
Skirting The Book
This was man made,
the blue-chip―
changing the landscape.
Fanatically you cling to mother
terra firma like a baby primate.
Incontrovertibly―
I am going back to look
like my fathers,
with twisted contours.
Forward― facing, but looking behind.
I climb up the blue,
to unsolve the murder and go
into deep meditation to reject
the gods. The gold mine was flooded
by unprecdented rains of hands and footsteps.
Satish Verma, 17 july 2019
A Space, A Dot, A Line
The hesitant―
dawn cracks, as the
river of darkness squirms.
The moon―
was in last, to leave
the howling bank.
It looms large, a ―
brain-dead future. I think
I am forgetting my age.
You must face the
dying earth― sustained―
on prayers only.
This is the height
of dilemma. Why―
poems were hungry?
Satish Verma, 16 july 2019
Through The Ashes
Outside, a discreet moon
was rising, breathing―
dark. I was wary of strange clouds
of unknown scents.
Like a blue absence of nothing,
from nothing to emptiness.
The religion of unspoken
prayers― I start the journey,
to void. From there a turbulence will begin.
Blinking eyes― will find
the answer to a no-question, at
the end of the conflict―
when the face is lost to sadness.
You will not take off
your shoes.
Satish Verma, 15 july 2019
A Riddle Unsolved
Something novel:
a good augury―
creeping to augment,
an esoteric fall.
I repeat the mistake of knowing too much.
Submodified. The man―
still wants to bite the tongue
on the name of truth.
It was very unpleasant
to see a hummingbird
becoming a sphinx.
No need to commit a suicide after homing,
to a blazing icon in the urn.
Satish Verma, 14 july 2019
Again A Sheep Walk
I will be kissing in proxy―
at the dark side of
the moon, where my twin crashed.
The cracks had emerged
in the fiery zone― the flames
reaching the zenith of blue, killer sky.
A tamed hematoma,
speaks― for the ripped open brain.
There was nobody left to be whole.
Survivors were the gift
of miracle. A saint starts
abusing the stars.
The god’s temple lies―
in ruins, buried under the sand,
debris and the dead faith.
Satish Verma, 13 july 2019
A Discreet Failure
A midnight darkness―
threatens the purple moon,
standing in awe.
There were two poems―
in your hands― which you
wanted to read in my face.
One for the asking―
and one for the moral defeat.
Do you have anything else to narrate?
A thunderbird makes―
a landing in my insomnia―
to scatter the dreams.
The insane world returns
the gift of the pagoda tree. Buddha
will not come back.
Satish Verma, 12 july 2019
Future Tense
The reflection was never
complete.
I was trying, was trying
to understand me,
in absence of you.
Looking into the persona
making a saint―
out of sexual surrogacy.
The human gene―
transcripted, on the borrowed womb?
Will you now speak for the fear?
I will never know you
in dimlight―
of suspicions.
Are you a complete man now?
Satish Verma, 11 july 2019
Crash-Landing
The space in between―
the mayhem and spiritual hour;
was not much, but a spitting image,
of swapping with sun bites― was
evident without remorse.
The ice storm was raging.
Blueberries hang from your
eyes, to bluff me. I draw the curtain
and lit the fire to bring in―
the bride of vengeance.
A charitable act, to clear
the needles from the doll: No black
magic will work now. I am clean
and pure, will not cut a
slice of breast, for the red milk.
Latest comments:
14 october 2024
Ananke
extra, szczególnie początkowe wersy, czytam
14 october 2024
czegoś za mało, albo za dużo, choć jest tu
14 october 2024
wszystko mi się podoba, oprócz : "bramy
14 october 2024
mnóstwo, mnóstwo.....
14 october 2024
tylko...co robiłeś pod mostem ;)
14 october 2024
czekała, czekała i się nie doczekała
14 october 2024
ostatnio widziałam co może zrobić tzn sztuczna
14 october 2024
kaszka, kaszka, jeszcze mega świeża ;p
14 october 2024
:*
14 october 2024
Jaga
Światło kolory snom przywraca :)
14 october 2024
Kołysząc się na księżycu/ gdy na niebie
14 october 2024
Miłości się wszystko wybacza :)
15 october 2024
Satish Verma
14 october 2024
Jaga
14 october 2024
wiesiek
14 october 2024
Eva T.
13 october 2024
Satish Verma
12 october 2024
Satish Verma
11 october 2024
Satish Verma
10 october 2024
wiesiek
10 october 2024
Jaga
10 october 2024
Eva T.