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poetry
Satish Verma, 18 june 2018
Snaring
While delaying gratification,
you stripped-down
to bones.
It was winter solstice,
when day and night confronted
each other─
in negativity. Tracking
the frozen footprints, my absence
was generic.
I dread the barrenness─
of looks, the unwritten wounds
seeking the healer.
The avalanche falling
rapidly on the streets, with placards
demanding the gallows─
for the tainted. The
victim lies still. Ashes fly
back at the purebreds.
Satish Verma, 15 june 2018
After The Assault
The hurt of a game.
Myth has played with the─
life of a song bird.
A dream becomes opaque.
You cannot find any─
image of blood.
A window shuts─
the moon. The rainbow will
grope for a sky.
And I must find
some excuse to live. The nascent
hope outleaps the black─
rain falling on eyes. Panic
grips poppies. They throw up the
color, the fresh dawn.
Satish Verma, 14 june 2018
Man And The Beast
After knowing so much
of unknown,
you were afraid, but I
lunge for the relic.
How far you will sink
in the depth of cries?
The moon will not─
offer her lips.
Light will not give you
the vision. A sin unrolls.
The city burns in its─
own garbage.
As soon as the water
dries, eyes will blink─
to nail down the constellation
in fog. The tongues retreat.
Satish Verma, 13 june 2018
A Crouching Stance
It was an outrage.
The weaver on the
loom was brutalized.
A design was raped.
The color screams,
I want to live.
Septicaemia spreads.
Time to be ashamed,
when your gut was removed.
The salt hurts on
the bitten lips. A
genome falters.
Let me try to define─
who we are; and
where we are going.
Satish Verma, 12 june 2018
Interactive
Unknowing the known
was politics
of unsold thoughts.
*
This was─
cyberstalking. I do not want
to talk.
*
The game
has backfired. It has
become a land mine.
Satish Verma, 11 june 2018
Unmourned
You were not present.
Far from the pallid sky─
in the graveyard,
the marbled tears
had become the eyes.
The meanness of the grill.
It will not fix the sun.
I stand by a river,
which was very thirsty─
very deep.
The silent flight of a
white falcon takes a dive─
for the darkned moon.
The wingless poem soars high
to catch the words.
The jacarandas were trumpeting
in blue flowers, of the return
of demigods.
Satish Verma, 10 june 2018
After The Carnage
Prepare the beds
for the nocturnal read of book.
The wodden angels-
have arrived, carrying
the golden caskets.
O zero town,
your children are coming home.
There will be no interrogation
in this fusion of grief
and anger!
I refuse to take
a hoax call of death. The
moon becons for an eternal bliss.
Let the red eyes─
speak not of any pain.
The agony of crying sky
will not be said by any mourning
mother, when you throw the dust
unto dust. A new journey
had just begun.
Satish Verma, 9 june 2018
The Bloody Hand
You must be precise.
I am in search of me.
No clue, yet to find the hand,
which was baked in the klin─
and that did not feel the pain.
It was all over. No need to nurse
anybody. The wounds, the multiple
bullet marks. Did you see it coming?
The fusillade, which lit up the room?
You become the question to find the
answer. Come out of the body.
There was no spring in sight.
It was a long winter of sealed lips
You must be color-blind.
The roses look black. The
avalanche was red!
Satish Verma, 8 june 2018
Loving Our World
We heard the screams.
Water to water,
fire to fire.
It was not marginal pain.
A meaningful dialogue
had started in unhinged doors.
The house is empty.
You come out from nothingness
to share the slogans.
The country wakes in the eye of guns.
Someone was fishing in troubled
waters. The bread becomes crazy.
Under the black moon
the white, hungry mouths.
A sacrifice!
Satish Verma, 7 june 2018
Loss Of Identity
It was chillingly true.
You walked out─
of the soot, without
leaving any footprints.
There were some very
hard questions. Why─
did you snap,
while sparrows were mating?
Carnage. The roses
were burning inside. The
red cherries shriek and
run for the amnesty.
On the terrace, the yellow
moon descends for a─
word. Why the nukes were
pointed towards the spiders?
Latest comments:
27 december 2025
Belamonte/Senograsta
No oczywiście, wolę wypowiedź szczerą, miło
27 december 2025
marka
Delikatna i pęłna wdzięu fotografia.
27 december 2025
Piękne. Czy da się to zagrać?
27 december 2025
Klimatyczne, tajemnicze. Robi wrażenie.
27 december 2025
CZuć powagę chwili. Ciekawa praca.
27 december 2025
Nastrojowe światło. Super.
27 december 2025
Spacer do chmur.
26 december 2025
wolnyduch
Dzięki za niemą obecność... Wszystkiego dobrego,
26 december 2025
Ciekawa puenta... Też sądzę, że prawdziwa
26 december 2025
Tak, wspaniały Wiersz, to prawda, że są zawsze
26 december 2025
Jak zwykle wstrząsająco mocne i niezwykle prawdziwe pisanie,
26 december 2025
Wiem Bel, że cenisz komentarze, w przeciwieństwie
27 december 2025
marka
27 december 2025
marka
27 december 2025
marka
27 december 2025
marka
27 december 2025
marka
27 december 2025
wiesiek
27 december 2025
Jaga
27 december 2025
Jaga
26 december 2025
wiesiek
25 december 2025
wiesiek