poetry

poetry
Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 29 january 2016

The Shooting Star

This was an obscene observation, 
seeing through one’s mind 
a terrible happening. 
The naked truth was always dangerous. 
I close the eyes of a beloved day. 
The first lover hovers over 
the trees like an invisible ghost. 
 
By transforming the obsession 
into the wholeness of a metaphor, 
don’t you externalize the center, 
of a theme? Integrity was 
never your forte. 
The light within was fading, 
sheer escape. 
 
I believe in a spring faithful to sun, 
where the searching ends. 
The body melts into melodies, 
and the shooting star of midnight, 
leaves a trail of fire. 
It opens the sky, 
the blade, the freckles.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 28 january 2016

Away From The Home

Non-thinking was a tremendous effort, 
I scratched the years one by one. 
Between you and me was a river, 
it has gone now. 
Are you beyond the imagination? 
My eyelids bleed, 
and there is a painful punctuation. 
 
Give me fireflies, 
it is too dark here. 
The future tense, 
is not relevant now. 
Present is very tense. 
Books fail to open the lyrics. 
I am lonely in the prints. 
Life makes a big leap 
for the sake of splash. 
 
I place the candles in the wind, 
away from the home, 
which never was. 
Going where the memories, 
had seedless interior. 
Emptiness sings for space 
refuses to be filled in.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 27 january 2016

Transitional Edge

Pathways have no boundaries, 
thinker was without a thought. 
Hostile mind refuses to believe 
truth was missing from life. 
From depth to depth measurement had failed. 
God does not know his creation now. 
 
Foolish flesh now burns in thudding bangs 
of dry butter. I want you to touch the 
opaque eyes of eternity. In captivity of 
sighs and groans. You ought to understand 
who was original. There had been free 
invitation to become unfaithful. 
There were masks, gene shifts and longevity. 
 
This evening a drama will be enacted in sky 
by unburnt bras and a black hole. There will 
be thrill. It was easy to bury the skulls among 
floating names. The wreath will be placed 
on the transitional edge of sweetness. 
Which never was.
 


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 26 january 2016

For A Cause

Do not talk of unhealing wounds, 
talk of the weapons. 
Talk of the hands which used the arms 
and talk of the brain which pressed the trigger. 
 
Violence was primitive 
but the cruel eyes had a new glint, 
At night they ransacked, stamped and burned 
the relics. 
 
Is it the retrovirus of a new menace 
dreaming the feast of thousands of corpses 
choking the drains? 
 
Why are we heading for the slaughter 
of earth, pure vengeance 
to turn the sun gloomy and black? 
 
This time the river will turn aside and not meet 
the ocean. 
It will spread out in the parched land of thirst 
and die for a cause.
 


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Girija KSK

Girija KSK, 25 january 2016

When pain gnaws.......

                               
Pain is like a vulture,
which preys on you
with its claws dug deep,
and beaks delve sharp!
************
Like enraged sea,
It sweeps forward,
engulfing you
with no hope of rescue!
***********
Pinned in pain,
You are always alone…..
No arm can caress,
No words bring solace,
No kisses felt!
***********
Pain is the only reality,
When it corrodes,
Snarls and spreads waves of tremor
all through your Self!
**********


number of comments: 0 | rating: 1 | detail

Girija KSK

Girija KSK, 25 january 2016

A question....

She craves to ask, 
though untimely and totally irrelevant; 
a question –
which only he can answer!

After all these years,
can he identify the name of passion, 
which overpowered him,
When he intervened her lonely dreams
and reigned them for a while?

Thinking back, the word love is just misleading,
Though he was an exponent of love then
Love, he proclaimed, was the thirst of the soul
and the hunger of the heart!
Without which he would perish forever!

She was swept in the tide, 
Only to see his love winging away
into the safe orbit of his family
and to the seclusion of conventions.

If without a word of adieu,
he could leave her desolate and aghast 
in the midway; 
why did he attempt to fish her mind 
and dropped it in hot sand,
nonchalant whether it plunged to death or life? - See more at:


number of comments: 0 | rating: 3 | detail

Girija KSK

Girija KSK, 25 january 2016

The secret of love

 
The secret of love is love itself…….
as it exudes a fragrance,
however hidden it may be……..!
It gives out as a flicker of light behind the eyes;
a smile suppressed behind the lips;
a caress on your throbbing wound;
a caring word, soothing your woes,
a loving grasp of your finger tight…….
And you cannot miss it, if it is there!
 
I have a strange encounter with love;
its memory still mesmerizes me,
though long years have passed……

After a critical operation
and five days in ventilator,
the moment when my husband recognized me
with swollen eyes, bandaged head
and unsteady words….
I then knew what love is…….
It’s a spring in the heart,
which sometimes wells up in the eyes….
and a feeling beyond words………….!
 
 
 
 
 
 


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Girija KSK

Girija KSK, 25 january 2016

A Death

 
 
He just walked away
 at the dead of the night-
leaving a family to grope in the gloom!
It was least convincing to me
Being a girl of seventeen!
I felt a sense of betrayal and the resultant bitterness
As if he had plotted for a secret journey
leaving me behind, as usual!


I couldn’t cry, father’s pet though I was;
Can anyone leave the dear ones
with no parting words…?
But I remember, how shattered my elder brother was,
as he kept wiping frantically my unshed tears,
With tears overflowing his eyes!


We sat near his body, more dead
than the benumbed one…….
But yet the crow’s first caw and the new day break,
ushered   us to a world
where our father was no more!


Later, alone in his room
 I felt, how real helpless he would be
when death captured him unaware.
I cried for my poor father,
with whom I have never shared a secret or a sorrow…!
Yet there are memories
Culled a long way,
that make him dear…….

How proud he was over the marks
his children scored in the exams…
How strict he was that
we shouldn’t waste time over trivialities……
So, for a long period when the gate creaked,
I swiftly hid my colour pencils
and switched off my radio, fearing his frown.

But now I know,
You sure loved us, dear father,
yet left us with a word of love untold
and with a caress never made;
I feel I miss that more, dear father,
than your lack of presence!



number of comments: 0 | rating: 1 | detail

Girija KSK

Girija KSK, 25 january 2016

Solace

This is for those, 
who cherish a spark of sorrow
concealed in their hearts, 
(oft forgotten, as the dire truth of death…) 
which just blazes unaware,
and subsides without any downpour of tears,
or whisk of sighs.

This is for those, 
who at times, feel the pangs of loneliness
-amidst even the supposed closest minds-, 
sadly realizing that each soul has its orbit
and into which no human intruder is allowed……!

This is for those, 
who yet abhor the void between minds
and suffocate in dark deprivation alone ……………!

In deep empathy, let me tell you, my dears,
not to bind hard, with strings of love
to keep the ones who are close to your heart,
as it would be  stretched too  far, 
making your heartstrings bleed! 
 
Better delve deep into yourself,
as solace is the music only of the Soul,
which echoes all through the span of Universe,
encompassing all the ages bygone,
and you can own it only from you…!
 **********


number of comments: 0 | rating: 2 | detail

Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 25 january 2016

Muse And Sorrow

An uneasy blood cascades 
in the slender arteries 
when you, 
that I wanted to touch 
disappear into twilight of memory. 
 
Always a sense of bereavement. 
why do I care for you? 
Time drops like an old coin 
in the hands of a drifter. 
 
Take away my sleep 
I want to wake for the whole night 
and recite the unwritten poems. 
 
Again life had been very kind to me 
I am free to face 
muse and sorrow.
 


number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail


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