poetry

poetry
Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 2 june 2017

Heavenly

Walking with death 
talking poetica. 
Living without walls 
and firing squad. 
 
While new culture was 
drowning on steps of 
dots and bass voices. 
The blood on hands. 
 
Sometimes you are going 
nowhere in a pathless 
city. Back to back setting 
ablaze bazaar of black gods. 
 
Between the veils lies 
the trauma of man. I 
step out from the underside of 
hymns. Cannot sleep in temple.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 1 june 2017

At Precipice

There was soft 
purring. Inviting but malicious, 
when you entered the cave. 
 
A bittersweet encounter. 
Quantified. A new dna print 
after a cyber attack. 
 
Another turn of the Venus. 
The whole world 
has never been the same. 
 
Anatomy of violence 
was shaping the 
future bêtes noires. 
 
Stupid thing, our roots 
still commingled with dust 
searching the stone-deaf god.
 


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 31 may 2017

Stepping Out

In the valley of death 
one more guest arrives. 
By my sleep, there is a soul search. 
 
Take off the lid from silence. 
Unlach the door. 
The wounded sun was coming. 
 
Be my grief to wash the eyes. 
Unclench my fist. 
I want to write the name of fallen god. 
 
Inhale the sulphur and 
draw the moon. 
Night was coming to take revenge. 
 
An obituary will glorify 
the asylum. 
An alien will enter the skin.
 


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Morgan

Morgan, 31 may 2017

Stress

Stress, Stress, who are you, what are you?
a lot of people seem to know you.
Stress, Stress, I hear your name alot,
but I can't recall your face
I can't recall your voice, Stress,
and you're completely odorless.

Stress, Stress, what are you, Stress?
Are you a god? Are you a goddess
with symbols and familiars?
Are you a cloud? A jellyfish?
Like God, you are known by your works, I guess.
Like God, you get so much bad press.

Everyone blames you for this, Stress.
Everyone blames you for that.
They say they can feel your breath on their necks--
that where they step, you step
like a shadow assassin. And, they're scared, yes.
Do you do it, Stress? Confess.

Can you cause piles? Can you cause shingles?
Can you make people late?
Can you cause PMS?
People say yes.
You could never get a fair trial, Stress,
not in this state.

Can you cause flat feet
or the grippe to linger?
Can you cause hair lip
Can you cause cancer?
People say yes but where's the proof?
No matter how quickly they twist

they can never see your face
for you are like a mist.
Stress, you are like a heat
Maybe you don't even exist.
Stress, I'll tell you this:
I think you have a libel case.

You are never seen at the scene of the crime--
mug shot, fingerprint, jammering witness
oddly inavailable. Stress,
I think you got blamed, I think you got framed--
I believe in your innocence, Stress.
So tell them to just bust off.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 30 may 2017

Oblivion

A cutaneous drip. 
The young moon drinks the dew 
unbuttoning a rose. 
 
A fierce wind rubs 
against the golden triangle 
to invite a violet sting. 
 
Eyes armed with green thumbs 
go for a swim in rage. 
The lake unloosens a blood moon. 
 
No inscense will rise 
from the tomb of a lover, 
unless he dies with a style. 
 
Crossing the gray lines, 
I will not take your lips; 
paralyzing the silver tongs.
 


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 29 may 2017

A Saint Between Us

He was no longer angry 
writing his own epitaph. 
Fighting a singular brute 
without repeating himself. 
 
Midnight. Untouchable moon 
drops the ear-ring. 
A mottled face worships 
a ladder expressionlessly. 
 
A monk walks past an 
oversexed monkey. 
A hidden agenda in end, 
shows a dirty hand. 
 
 
You know, I do not want 
to tame an exploding - 
navel. Transfixed I throw 
the bottle in a sea. 
 
One more parakeet dies 
in my hands. How do I catch 
a flying saucer in the 
alien body.?


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Joe Breunig

Joe Breunig, 29 may 2017

Poem: Applying Practical Faith?

For us, Faith is applying
His Truth and trusting in
Christ. So trust Him and
Faith grows with His Truth.

Knowing His Word, can show
us… what can occur. Without
Christ, nothing can carry
us through… to Salvation.

Can anything stop us? Will
Man stop on his own? Why do
folks worry on a daily basis?
Can or should individuals

do what is right continually?
Milking our situation for pity
is a sad way to push forward.
Will Christ light our way, if

Faith is always lacking? Why
should God assist us? Christ
is motivating us to go towards
Him; without spiritual aims,

nothing significant may occur.
 
 
 
Author notes
 
Inspired by:
Matt 6:33; 1 John 2:15; 2 Tim 3:16

Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ

By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2017, All rights reserved.


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Joe Breunig

Joe Breunig, 29 may 2017

Poem: Tears Into Joy

We’ve been freed from the captivity
of our sinful, blackened hearts;
The Lord has changed our tears into
joy and thankfulness; can’t we see

that we should be rejoicing everyday?
Yahweh reigns supremely over Zion
and our humbled bosoms; He’s provided
His Word; with The Spirit, His sway

encompasses our own with utmost peace.
Within our souls, His seeds of Truth
have been planted; His Presence waters
our existence; His purpose is released

as we go forward… progressing in Faith!
 
 
 

Author notes

Inspired by:
Psa 126; Jer 17:8

Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ

By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2017, All rights reserved.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 28 may 2017

The Mosaic

A leopardess dies on a tree. 
No molestation was reported. 
Exploring your breast 
why were you throwing salt? 
 
As if almost needing a space 
you ran to top. A solid truth 
looks like a quasicrystal 
against the nature. 
 
Unbosoming myself I am 
traveling in vacuum. Empty 
hands don't hold any ancestors. 
I am carrying my unborn voice. 
 
Now don't cry, don't. You are 
reaching home at the end of a 
tunnel. A featureless fog will let you in, 
in a fatherless world.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 27 may 2017

Trafficking

The arch 
in the targeted killing 
was the bet when you 
lost your virginity. 
 
A slow dance 
at the cold river of flesh, 
with genitalia wiped off. 
I was constructing- 
 
your genome 
from you saliva. Prayer 
was a form of begging 
before an unpardonable sin. 
 
The gradient 
parting the hills will 
find another arena 
to start the game.


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