Latest items:

poetry

George Krokos, 20 march 2018

Quatrain 148 - Silence or definite action is ....

Silence or definite action is the right answer when words are of no avail;
let the language of the heart speak with love when all else seems to fail.
If you have a point to make and it appears to fall only on deaf ears
try setting a good example first and allay all your immediate fears.
______________________________________

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

George Krokos, 20 march 2018

To A Wilting Rose

Hey you there, oh thou drooping rose
what are you trying to disclose?
It seems that time has passed quickly
and left you now looking sickly.
You once were so bright and fragrant
but now you are like a vagrant;
shedding down all those body parts
before the expected end starts.
Was it because of your placement
in front of a sheer glass casement
on that window sill sun-exposed
and in midday hours being closed?
My sympathy for you dear friend
it looks as if you're near the end.
________________________

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

George Krokos, 20 march 2018

Autumn Whispers

When you hear all those trees
how they sing in the breeze
with their branches and leaves
which are now falling down
to cover the bare ground
and pile up in a mound
from where all of them grow
they begin then to show
that season we well know.
__________________

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

George Krokos, 20 march 2018

The Secret Beyond Sleep

A God of peace and rest is within us all
that is why we have to heed sleep's call.
On a daily basis that is usually at night
we tend to fall asleep devoid of any light.

In that unconscious darkness of our soul
we find true rest and peace playing a role
in everyone's existence no matter who it is
a likeness of that sought as heavenly bliss.

It's an unconscious union with our Source
of which most people aren't aware of course.
Throughout our lives this discipline we keep
being an imperative need to get some sleep.

No creature can ever ignore it for too long
as its force is overwhelming and so strong.
It's a universal call for everything to return
back to where it came from that we discern.

It really couldn't be any other way unless
we get to experience a state beyond stress
that may come about when one is awake
in tune with a higher energy and it betake.

There are some higher dimensions of existence
that can be experienced without any resistance.
We just have to seek and find the secret place,
that is hidden inside us all, with Divine Grace.
________________________

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

Satish Verma, 20 march 2018

Spotlessly

It was the day of
dead patriarch.
I was fondling an echidna.

The home was
carried away in the─
storm. Must find a broom.

On the remains─
of a burned-out soul.
A hope sits on the altar.

A piano drenched in rain─
will not sing in the gale.
The sky will collapse─

one day, I will bring
back the bluebird,
for a revenge.

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

Satish Verma, 19 march 2018

Unforgiving

Festival of─
earthen lamps.
Separating the grain from chaff.

*

Pigeons will─
not be let out to fly.
It is going to be a moonless night.

*

The skin has peeled off.
Time to move on.
The bared trees.

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

Satish Verma, 18 march 2018

Capsized Boat

A dynast in the storm-razed
polity will ask─
for a pardon.

By choice there was
no suicide. You will
eat the clouds one day.

Taking the brunt, ─
living near the sea of
people, a window goes shut.

Curtly, with
levitation, the wind
twists, one and everybody.

An owl tattoo, will
tell it all. The hurricane
has reached your door.

Aftermath was a
conspiracy of silence.
Every one was speaking of landfall.

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

Paweł Szkołut, 17 march 2018

Each day gives birth to a poem

Each day gives birth to a poem
emerging from the whitness of morning
like Venus from the sea foam

its words embrace the world
with colorful threads of meanings
and encircle it with the garlands of metaphors

every day gives birth to a poem
sober by the sun rays,
intoxicated with dew and rain

its words are flying to the sky
like birds
to measure by their wings
the spaces of freedom

each day gives birth to a poem
in the palaces of imagination,
its words commence there
where the night
of nonexistence ends

in the evening, when the day is
passing away
in the embraces of darkness –
the poem remains forever
imperishable
like Logos

X 2002

number of comments: 1 | rating: 1 | detail

Satish Verma, 17 march 2018

Barreling

The limbs had the raw strength.
They were learning
to walk on the water.

The silver axe
will hack off the neck
after the daunting recovery.

In gestational surrogacy,
you don’t want
the incisors.

To kill a wanderer,
you need a howling─
wind, fledged.

A shoebox contains
the handprints of a skeleton
and liquid eyes.

The hunger has a blue
desire. A savage bite
will bring out the space.

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

Satish Verma, 16 march 2018

Bruised Spots

After the deluge: dark,
where the river,
meets the sea-
a city becomes a ghost.

*

The narrator,
went to sleep,
A story moved on.

*

A replica
steps out from the black
water, white
as the moon.

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

10 - 30 - 100

Latest items:

poetry

Quatrain 148 - Silence or definite action is ....

To A Wilting Rose

Autumn Whispers

The Secret Beyond Sleep

Spotlessly

Unforgiving

Capsized Boat

Each day gives birth to a poem

Barreling

Bruised Spots

Latest comments:

contact with us