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poetry
POEWHIT, 2 january 2017
ROLL and GAMBLE
Gamble and roll all day.
YET, I have no income pay.
On a bench my home life.
Hook she does, such a good wife.
Let me play this molded image part.
From T.V. ads - to multi-multi-marts.
All day long in a haze.
Crawling sometimes in a maze
The herded sheep - all wool gone.
Addictions grow - new tattoo on arm.
GOLD plated chain around neck.
Got that itch - joker in the deck.
Around the block again
Down is up now - times bend.
Illusions live on T.V. ways.
Church door locked - stolen pay.
Where is GOD ? all is lost.
Overdose time - the new host.
All growing dark - real slow.
DOWN TO HELL - LAST ROLL - HELLO.
from my poem book DREAMS 3
Satish Verma, 2 january 2017
Voices
When the sun goes down bleeding
beyond the hills yonder,
I will meet you under
the acacias.
As a souvenir I will keep
your lips in my books for history.
As a gift I will give you
my tears.
This desert of hate has bleached
my fingers, bone white.
I cannot write a monologue
of death in waning light.
I wake to sleep in blasts.
My palms hold out the great silence.
Satish Verma, 1 january 2017
Today
Knowing too much
was painful.
Shedding the fear, we were
disappearing in each other.
The rioting has spread
between deathless principles.
Unborn was
the sadistic attack-
sleeping on roses. There
was hidden sex in the pricks.
I made love with
the bones-
unthreading.
I will not borrow
the colors of moon
now.
Satish Verma, 31 december 2016
Second Sight
What was the prophecy of
a slow moving floating name?
To hang a spy from the beam?
Your face lits up.
The world was translating
the labate grief into small mirrors.
A seed explodes. A magnetized
book of conduct is slapped on your face.
And you start reading the script
in darkness in a beautiful retreat.
The approaching night engulfs
the moon. An anonymous fear
takes hold of this moment before
disappearing in an abyss.
You stoke a desire to collect
the immortal blues and headless clues
and we crawl on the sands of time
breaking the silence by our drones.
POEWHIT, 30 december 2016
A SMALL GLASS OF WATER
One small glass of water.
The waiter said, "THAT WAS THE ORDER".
The pantry man looked at me.
We have no water, LET IT BE.
What will I tell him, HIS MAJESTY.
OFF WITH MY HEAD ! It seems to me.
Oh your honor, the pantry said, "LET BE".
WHAT !! No water in my kingdom.
How can this fate, NO FREEDOM!!!
But, What, after this - TO SEA.
Find me some water - ON ONE KNEE.
That is your quest - NOW FLEE !!!
Yes your majesty - A CRUSADE IT WILL BE.
For a small glass of water.
Call all in the quarter-YES. Even the porter.
from my poem book DREAMS 2
Satish Verma, 29 december 2016
A Nonsensical Poem
Wrestling with a theological
puzzle, I would like to talk
about the nature of God. He was sitting
besides me. The man has
become arrogant, he said, I want to quit.
Were you afraid of
becoming a narcissist, while
eating a daffodil?
Convivial.
I was trying to listen to the lunatic’s story.
The other side of the indiscretion. The
corpse comes alive
after resuscitation. The bones in
desert started laughing. There was
a chorus of cricket’s symphony
and hopping toads
became friends with stray dogs.
Satish Verma, 28 december 2016
Revolt Of A Sutra
Spooked by a two headed snake,
a double of a living person squirms.
A moral crisis comes out
of a cage.
The private space is violated
and bloodbath of robins start-
to understand the unrest.
Antimatter will keep the mystery alive.
A distorted truth falls in your lap
like a figurine asking your pardon.
The dogma lies in mess. Chronology
moves forward for future dates.
This is not unusual. A wounded
lion has a sanguinity
of exactitude, lying on
a stretcher.
Satish Verma, 27 december 2016
A Call To Murder
The rain enters back
into your eyes.
A private door quivers.
A moonless beam
flashes before you.
You start seeing in dark.
Silt settles in headless bodies
of poems.
The shadow of a tree-
opens the seeds of
unknown. The world is shattered
by an unending scream.
The struggle with the decision
was there, you squeeze
me like a prayer.
Renato N. Mascardo, 26 december 2016
Sliver
sliver
i keep
hearing it the
sliver of an echo
something about your loving me
deeply
it cuts.
renato
monday 26 december 2016
Satish Verma, 26 december 2016
A Big Idea?
The moral dilemma was
unlearning.
less than truth.
Downgrading the-
branded witch.
Vaccine was spawning new virus.
O Buddha, why did you
started looking beautiful
and began sitting in a living room?
Trailing the smoke
I was going to find the-
burning home.
What were those intimate-
words of unthinkable
dirty secrets?
Latest comments:
1 january 2026
Sorrowhead (ex Cheval)
Dzięki!
1 january 2026
violetta
Za tym piecem coś fajnego się kryje:)
1 january 2026
Piękne:)
1 january 2026
Wszystkiego dobrego:)
31 december 2025
ais
Szczęśliwego :)
31 december 2025
Jaga
Gdzie tu się schować? Wieś nie lepsza od miasta.
31 december 2025
wolnyduch
Tak, myślę podobnie... Miło mi bardzo gościć
31 december 2025
Niestety masz rację i to jest przykre. Dzięki
30 december 2025
AS
nie powinno się oceniać autorów, ale tematy
30 december 2025
Miłość nie jedno ma imię :))
30 december 2025
Ja próbuję :))
30 december 2025
Dwie drogi. Świata, który odchodzi pomału
1 january 2026
wiesiek
31 december 2025
wiesiek
30 december 2025
Jaga
27 december 2025
marka
27 december 2025
marka
27 december 2025
marka
27 december 2025
marka
27 december 2025
marka
27 december 2025
Jaga
27 december 2025
Jaga