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poetry
Satish Verma, 25 december 2016
Untrodden Snow
A night of one thousand moons
and I am dancing
in dark.
Circa.
My half-script was left
with you, under a scrap.
Now I am not
finding any punctuations
in the aerie.
At unknown heights
wake me up in blue depths
when sun does not rise.
Stones placed on hyacinth
will not bury the scent.
I might bring another red spike.
Satish Verma, 24 december 2016
Ancient Sins
Drunk with pride
the streets are bursting
in self-indulgence.
Who was calling the shots?
Do you know the words
between intermissions, carry a secret-
till the brazen scoop
finds the hidden meaning.
It was grave
very grave truice, unmaking love
between the estranged lovers-
when clouds were seducing the moon.
You don't belong to this
crowd of renegades. Ants
will take away the
divorced dreams.
•
Fissile belly
has started showing signs
of reckoning. A gloom has settled,
gyrating in a sunken garden
for the hung corpses.
Never cruel were the times before
when blind needles were unstitching
the lips of frozen faces. I refuse
to start a prayer
till the grass covers a silent tomb.
Last night it had rained
on the private flesh. It was
full of semen. You do not
belong to this world
of pregnant pause.
Satish Verma, 23 december 2016
Armless Enemies
In your domain
walking with men of straw
to immolate myself.
If power was sacred
why you did not stop
the reversing of gender role?
Oh, there was water on Mars
streaking like the tears
on your face.
The apes were coming.
There was elation and suspicion.
The vortex of existence needs surgery.
Unlikeness calls for
introspection. I am asking
god to pray for me.
Satish Verma, 22 december 2016
Silver Trails
By the moon
I drink you again.
The night is trembling;
ruffles the colossal tears.
The terrible ache of the
illegitimate mercy. I am
not accepting any poem
half-dead under my pen.
The invisible force, bribing
the tears was a grace
uncalled for. I am going to forget
the date of my cessation.
It was a false peace of the womb.
There was no banality
in sending the message.
Death has no other name.
Satish Verma, 21 december 2016
Landing Without Gears
In asci we stand like
spores in a floating pain
in trepidation of something
evil.
It was a lily pond.
The water brings a dead city
on lotus leaves. I will
become crazy for small deviations.
The body bags are full of
remains. You know everything
before hand, from alphabet
to full script.
In my own way I will
decipher the stream of
death’s language. A part
of your face floats nearby.
The uncollected legs were
searching the flame of sorrow
without digging a hole.
Satish Verma, 20 december 2016
Contraptions
When I was arranging daffodils
you send in tanks.
The sky was overcast.
When I was talking to clouds
Fireballs are delivered.
That signals the specific gravity
is shifting to knobs.
The artist was going
to disappear.
I think of faithfulls.
How beautifully they talk of
two moons.
I had decided to quit
when you send in a hymn.
Satish Verma, 18 december 2016
Backtracking
Leave something for me to imagine.
A skeleton in a pond
leaps to the moon.
In an air bubble
lies the history of a suspended
name, wasted away on water.
A war is declared on the
family of words, not spoken
to anguish of man.
I thought of my sun
averting a disaster. The sprouts
will not come out of the earth.
An enquiry into the nature of
immanence, leads to starvation.
The body of truth turns into a snake.
The revolution within, shows
a false victory. You start again
from the ugly fingers.
Satish Verma, 17 december 2016
Enigmatic
The secular love:
you are contaminated
between skin and prayer.
Back from the odyssey
finding a crop-circle
in bridal chamber.
Rival was an alien
with a flat stomach
thinking black.
The thieving sperms
had a glorious end,
unentered in grass.
Your body was churning out
a religion.
I will find out my own god.
Satish Verma, 16 december 2016
Ignition
Like a butterfly pinned
in a collage, fluttering.
Death makes a deal.
I was appalled
standing on the edge
watching the withering body.
The lake drowns me.
Seagulls were waiting
for a renaissance.
It is not even midsummer.
The planting of the kiss
remains incomplete.
No sex was involved
in baring midriff.
Moon ignites the legs.
Satish Verma, 15 december 2016
Wishes
Nothing was beholden.
Colony counts were perfect.
You were never guaranteed and exit.
I am stalked by lips
of a black tulip holding
a moonbeam.
The world moves
wearing a shell of emptiness
in a cosmos, inviolable.
Aggrandizement
beyond the bluffing.
More beliefs and many withdrawls.
You will not kill me?
Half-way to soothing words
of ecstasy.
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
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27 december 2025
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