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Irena

Irena, 24 august 2018

A promise

You will look for me
Inside the caves that rest deep within your soul
Thinking….
That I might be there
Knowing….
That I was the only one
That knew they’re there
You will look for me,I promise
You will look for me
Far ahead in the horizons
Thinking I might be the shadow approaching, but darling
I am not a shadow
I am a lightning that will never crush
On you!
You will look for me
Thinking I might be the reason for your hunger
But baby, you will
Never be fed!
You will look for me I promise!
You will hunt me, high and low
But I am no longer the prey, nor the trophy
You will look for me, I promise!
But you will not find me!
I also promise that!

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 24 august 2018

Imploring

The ledge, jutting out
in quivering water.
Moon was sitting underneath, on floor.

*

I will look out-
for a songbird.
Something secret, I wanted to share.

*

I do not abuse anybody,
like a mockingbird-
I make a fool of myself.

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 23 august 2018

Parentheses

It was not easy,
to rewrite a dream poem
when you are bound and hurt.

*

A twiner
looms out, at my window.
Like a face, peeps in.

*

Do not want to tell,
about my sorrow,
before the dried up river.

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 22 august 2018

Renouncing

Move the steps,
to accept the dark.
Moon has abdicated the throne.

I am still trying to become.
Not becoming something.
A lot has remained―

unsaid in my small poems.
I am still trying, still trying
to decipher the life, to decipher.

The roots will know my pain.
My pain, why did I remained
mute amidst the clamouring words?

Tell me, why should it happen?
Why should? That someone jumps
in the boiling cauldron to find the truth.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 20 august 2018

Renouncing

Move the steps,
to accept the dark.
Moon has abdicated the throne.

I am still trying to become.
Not becoming something.
A lot has remained-

unsaid in my small poems.
I am still trying, still trying
to decipher the life, to decipher.

The roots will know my pain.
My pain, why did I remained
mute amidst the clamouring words?

Tell me, why should it happen?
Why should? That someone jumps
in the boiling cauldron to find the truth.

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

Renato N. Mascardo

Renato N. Mascardo, 19 august 2018

The Choices We Make

RSVP

in her
hilltop home with
seven columns wisdom
had set her table with ample
meat and

wine for
her invited
guests all simple sans nous
most went to the house of folly
instead//

renato
sunday 19 august 2018

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 19 august 2018

Renouncing

Move the steps,
to accept the dark.
Moon has abdicated the throne.

I am still trying to become.
Not becoming something.
A lot has remained-

unsaid in my small poems.
I am still trying, still trying
to decipher the life, to decipher.

The roots will know my pain.
My pain, why did I remained
mute amidst the clamouring words?

Tell me, why should it happen?
Why should? That someone jumps
in the boiling cauldron to find the truth.

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 18 august 2018

Ending Was A Ceremony

Unbecoming, you watch
the sunset.
Something snaps.

Violence was loud.
There was no agreement
between the trees.

I draw a plan
and reach the lake
to listen.

There was no
manifestation. Only
unheard voices.

You get the answer.

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 16 august 2018

Still Alive

It was difficult to revisit,
the birth therapy.

Arms had no emotions,
the violence will not go.

Let us take a back road for
the sake of anatomy.

And find out a man and the woman
to bend the gender.

The rock salt and the bruises
will melt, if you were warm blooded.

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 15 august 2018

A Whirlwind Romance

I have accepted myself, now.

In incompleteness,
and all flaws.

The bunker was intent,
on self-destruction. Why
did you want to
stop that?

The prodigy will not
walk with me, I know.
Yet my shadow falls in love.

A tear-washed poem
was a good beginning.

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

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