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poetry
Satish Verma, 6 november 2016
Commerce
The snarled monogamy
needs a firework.
A solitary moon walks on a lake
nonchalantly.
The marriage
between the planet and moon
was falling apart.
In amphora lies the secret
of a jeweled crown. Cynical
berries were searching
a quartz to find the truth of the bush
where the colors were mixed.
There is no further news of
half-crazy stars who became
pretty girls to start trading
their shines.
Satish Verma, 5 november 2016
Swaying
A chocolaty moon was rising.
I have lost my riverbed.
Accuser has become accused.
The hangman has shifted
the ground while glistening
in moonlight. Oxymoronic?
Eponym exited the lips of a drone fly.
A flotilla of tears
dies in an eye of a storm.
An audacity of a drifter
to stop the promiscuous honors
of strangers in death.
Only night-bloomers will watch
the sunrise in eternal lonliness.
The roots will always stay in dark.
Joe Breunig, 4 november 2016
Poem: Unveiled Faces
Unlike Moses, we should live…
with unveiled faces, letting
the Light of our Faith shine;
as His Children, we’re getting
favor among men; with clear eyes,
smiles and a bright disposition,
our efforts will be pleasing unto
The Lord, as we honor His position
as King of kings; He divinely rules
and reigns in our lives and hearts.
His holy promises remain steadfast
and His Holy Spirit will never depart
from us; as His human candles, our
unveiled faces pierce the darkness,
wherever our journey takes us; therefore,
let us shine… with His righteousness.
Author notes
Inspired by:
Exo 2:25; Prov 3:4, 8:35; 2 Cor 3:18
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2016, All rights reserved.
Satish Verma, 4 november 2016
Salvaging
1
The reluctant thereness
I want to embrace.
The spiritualism without a god?
This whispering darkness -
always becomes an incensed flesh.
I unwrap myself.
2
Please let me touch
the multistrands of understanding.
After all what was a religion?
You were always seeking an exit.
The betrayal, godliness and
fog hours. I always remained obsessed
with the failing lights.
Satish Verma, 3 november 2016
Haltering
A red clock and the dwarf
will not meet on the wall.
Time slips out in virginal shyness.
On the verge of collapse was
an ossified civil group
after emotive conception fails.
Unambiguously an azure
sky measures the human steps
in somnambulant thoughts.
You throw a bound kid
in a water tank, after postpartum blues
and walk away with a halter.
Who will grab the fractured
age, during the fire dance?
A mirror lies flat after announcing the award.
Satish Verma, 2 november 2016
Flirting
Half-mooned I have left the envy.
The basic instinct of lesser love
for my failing god.
Come to me, my cloaked enemy,
a sweet lover of pain
in the milky hours.
Mother of seeds was far away
and you wanted to suck on the
pollen from the wings of honeybees.
Soft and cruel, I cannot leave you
nor I can abandon the post.
The war cry was coming nearer.
Was it a virginal drink to –
placate the lips of a flame?
Time will never know the ultimate.
Satish Verma, 1 november 2016
Singing Darkness
In hirsute adolescence
a narcissist climbs
the breast and becomes
a graveyard of moons.
Talking of marginality,
a hole in the chest
ejects a secret of peachy skin
when wind was selling sex.
Most corrupt was me
always telling truth about the
warm eggs of chaotic legs
who will not climb down the street.
Satish Verma, 31 october 2016
Striped Nothings
Floating on a river of fire
sitting in a cooking vessel
you were invoking the rain god.
Your hollow words had holiness
of unmeaning.
The sky opens the third eye.
Are you going to offer your
tongue to a footwear
of a proxy blood?
As a hymn to goddess of wealth,
sugar is thrown out of window
and yellow rice dances before a mirror.
And here I bleed silently
for the shooting star*
who could not conceive.
*A kind of primrose whose purple flowere have
backward curving petals hanging down. The
flowers move skyward on slender stems
turning their face upward after fertilization.
Satish Verma, 30 october 2016
Very Disturbing
Rains will not come to my land.
Bisexuality starts a slut walk.
Blackbucks were hungry.
The stray dogs were barking
at moon. Into the night goes
the snake without any truth.
Nearly over the scooped –
protection of virginity
against the dazzling hirsutism.
Lost fortune of the flaunted
Buddha. I have no legs
to bow down before the pale god.
This is the sex: there are
strawberries. Have a pick
of comets, bleeding.
Satish Verma, 29 october 2016
Unphrasing
in love with vermilion
floating on optics
you learn in moments of insult
or insults in moment of learning
fishless bones
still he smels of withering pain
on black satin
you don’t want to suffer
with asterisks
annotation
disfigurs the essence
i will boil the moon
to find the separateness
between scent and grief
i am done
the poem is over
death has walked away
Latest comments:
1 january 2026
sam53
Może i dobrze,,, Najlepszego w Nowym Ćwierćwieczu
1 january 2026
dużo zdrówka i szczęścia w Nowym 2026!
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 :))
1 january 2026
wiesiek
31 december 2025
wiesiek
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