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poetry
Satish Verma, 12 november 2018
Eternal Nothingness
A dirty word
waits for the chilling moon.
Be aware now. I am
going to ask the black mountain.
There was no credible
reason, why did you wait
so long for a chimera?
A chaste excuse for
seven seas. They wanted a close
encounter with aliens.
This was spring of orange
and black monarchs
who have to distribute
the gifts for hunger earth.
I cannot understand myself.
Sometimes I am happy,
sometimes I start grieving.
Satish Verma, 9 november 2018
Homeward
Suddenly, the full moon
pops up soundlessly. I was stunned
by sheer nakedness.
*
Will you catch a
butterfly for my reluctant wine?
I had invited the black roses.
*
A city does not
sleep any more, after the call
of service, fumbling with the locks.
Satish Verma, 8 november 2018
A Wrong Turn
Standing on deathway,
choking back tears,
for a stance.
There were few minutes left,
when you took the cover
under pervasive falcon.
Was it not a
molestation of a baby moon,
when you wash your sin in dimlight.
Amazing was the
religion of short legs.
An ailing mother was waiting at door.
You strike a chord
(while I don't stir)
before anointing the dark.
The battle of penultimates,
after a hill down
shackled to river.
Satish Verma, 7 november 2018
A Bruised Memory
The basics to live
was with the peeling off,
the tangerines. The innovative flight
takes you to surrealism-
of a countdown, which begins
to send a subsonic device
to small jupiters.
You receive the call and
jump into black sea-
eliminating the foes, breaking the bridge.
This moment after sometime splits,
ejects the god particle.
You slip out of backyard
to embrace the apparition.
The ending was never a happy thing.
Satish Verma, 6 november 2018
No Vilification
Do you think milk?
The medicine,
had already become
a bromide.
One benign question,
opened the potential
of conflict. The fan-
tasy? Golden knife?
Devastating me. Car-
essing the dark, did
you stop by the moon
to say hello?
Unmasking the secret―
of immortality? Ephebic.
You were always lying
to yourself.
Satish Verma, 5 november 2018
Day Of Anxiety
Between the soft glow of
twilight and moon, it was
cold. For a faithful swan.
*
The black smoke billows
from the rooftops of mud houses.
Time to celebrate a dinner.
*
I will not give up,
though nothing was left to do.
Atleast I can write a poem.
Satish Verma, 4 november 2018
What A Scenario
Put me through the
french knots. I am
under the gaze of
a jilted lover.
A freeze melts in
the rainbow. The dew
sits on the eyebrows
of the grass.
The spark splits
between the shadows.
Someone has hanged
himself from the window.
There was no life left
in the stump. Now
bristles will not stand
at ancient sites.
Satish Verma, 3 november 2018
Foggy Night
A machine pain,
scripts the name secretly,
intones the verdict.
*
I don't need,
to prove it, like the man
who sells the dreams.
*
Privacy interrupted,
I have come out in open,
to commit the god.
Satish Verma, 1 november 2018
Armless Fight
Who was the dancer of death?
You went for the kill,
and not for the killer.
The frail armistice. You
launch a drive for the drill.
It was more than what-
meets the eye. Looks like an
Armageddon. You begin in earnest
to ward off the paranoia.
Nativity was at stake. A
captive psyche fights the fading
memory. Your face goes blank.
My things and your things.
It should not have happened this way.
It should not have happened that way.
Satish Verma, 31 october 2018
Braiding The Destiny
The time will not heal. The
aging looks. Erotica. Each
scream ends in a dry river.
Who had the right to deliver
the needle and a silk thread?
Sometimes I will read you for
the signs of remorse. There
was this rigid wrinkle which
will not move on the face.
It will not matter if the grief
overwhelms. The scare was
real. Regurgitation. The bell
will not ring today. The pod
splits to release the seeds.
Come my mentor. I have tested
the floor, smelled the rope. The
translation should end tonight.
Satish Verma, 30 october 2018
Hear My Voice
Needing a bit less,
I wanted to discover myself.
Raise the chimney.
The house in on fire.
The door sleeps in the room.
Sun will find no corner
to sit. Can you call a cloud
to make the floor wet?
The knuckles come alive, rap
the window to stay calm. Someone
had knocked out the space
and coming in to meet the hunger.
A shrine has asked the roads
to be washed with tears of pilgrims
who had come from the faraway
hymns of darkness to script the light.
I am carrying the seeds of my
native place to find the roots.
Satish Verma, 28 october 2018
A Long Night
Without words, I wanted
to write a poem. Would you
read it from the moist eyes?
*
It was a strange thing.
Finding the darkness of whitemoon
in blue air.
*
The wolf was there
in the house, to
molest the moonlight.
Satish Verma, 27 october 2018
Recalling
It was snowing, snowing
very hard. Hold me
tight, when the wolf comes.
*
The wolf comes in red
cloak. Why did you ask me
to pin a white rose on him?
*
There was no quiver,
no tremor. The murder was
clean, without blood. Desert ants.
Satish Verma, 26 october 2018
This Autumn
Like water hyacinth of lake
you cannot run away
from your psyche.
*
A separation from the
body was imminent.
Moon was calling.
*
The myth was there,
and summer, the night
opens like a medusa.
Satish Verma, 25 october 2018
Blessing
At dusk, when moon was coming up
fidelity was challenged.
No soul was searched.
It was the body scarred in bright sun.
One pink petal flew over the cloud
and landed on the lake.
Will you gather the name and
send it back home?
It was a sacred gem, in the
navel of organdie, you had
worn on the night of a slaughter.
Opalescence, scolds the light,
dark was beautiful?
Satish Verma, 24 october 2018
The Shriek
Arising before the dawn,
to meet the earth,
your honeymoon was over with innocent.
You start becoming extinct,
with stained excuses. Naked as a belief.
There was no contradiction.
An imitation will take over,
for the surreal tomb.
A gift of rain will fill the bowl
left for Buddha, who was still sleeping
with eyes half-open.
A sage grouse begins the mating dance.
Can you speak for the scars? They
promised to remain mute.
Satish Verma, 23 october 2018
Interaction
Holding the truth for the
sake of time and space.
I will not ask your name.
*
In fading moonlight
you had abducted my boat.
How will I cross the river?
*
A civil war erupts between
the flowers of morning glory.
It has changed the way you think.
Satish Verma, 22 october 2018
The Living Death
Tonight, come for moon watch.
I will show you the night birds.
There was an impasse to find
the missing link for peace. A story
will not end in the water. A long
border was interrupted by the
wriggling snakes.
Of flesh. I will talk about the panic now.
You were collecting the flowers
from the ashes of dehydrated body.
I am leaving the race now,
to pay the debt of death.
A pink sky starts the endless struggle
to retrieve the black sun.
Satish Verma, 21 october 2018
Breathing Again
You dig in your heels,
when blood spills
under the skin.
Refuses to go, the homeless moon,
I will call the snow to cover the sod.
Scavenging,
through the stray thoughts, you
pick up the threads, to knit―
a scarf for the poem.
Body born, a planet
breaks, in your epic. The ivory
shaving will make a white gold.
The birth pangs start in natal pain.
Satish Verma, 20 october 2018
No More, No Less
Noway, I will ask
the poem, to become stressed out,
like the street,
beaten and used again
and again.
Where do you want to go
for a rendezvous with―
unknown, in dark,
groping for the unsung,
unseen meaning?
Time is worn out. You live
on the fringes, unselling
your ancient home, submerged,
after the earthquake,
triggered by ghosts of comments.
Satish Verma, 16 october 2018
Time Crossing
When I hold the pen,
it trembles in my hand; the poem.
The catharsis.
Zero minus, to no to everything
against the main stream.
You start kinking.
Gawking?
Every night I carry my glitches
to bed, to fight my demons.
Falteringly, you speak:
it should not have happened.
The genetic aberration?
Nudges the crass exhibition
of alphabets of exorcism.
You invoke the dumb gods, who will
not vacate the accelerandos.
Satish Verma, 15 october 2018
Solemnity
Give me a lone word.
I will write a poem.
You enter the final hour
of diagnosis. The kill
was imminent.
Back to back two trysts collide
generating a fire.
Who was peeling the moon?
The stab sets in. In
abeyance of the gift. I
will give you a scar.
Daisies will remain awake
at night, for the vigil
of a slain pilgrim.
Satish Verma, 13 october 2018
A Scare Comes Back
I have never been the same,
after watching, the abandoned
moon, rising gracefully,
and becoming secular. There
were no words, no speech;
but a biological war had
started between the shadows,
like gondolas in the air.
You unexpectedly turn blue.
Somebody had left the bloody footprints.
Satish Verma, 12 october 2018
Fake Arrival
Gliding on the clover
you invoke the sky.
A tiger moth lands on the―
sweet viola to seek liberation.
You die to find a rival―
to cheat the moon.
Everynight a silver bleeds
to write your name on the stone.
What you dream, does not
become your neighbour.
You give a big hearty
laugh to frighten yourself.
Satish Verma, 11 october 2018
Fake Arrival
Gliding on the clover
you invoke the sky.
A tiger moth lands on the―
sweet viola to seek liberation.
You die to find a rival―
to cheat the moon.
Everynight a silver bleeds
to write your name on the stone.
What you dream, does not
become your neighbour.
You give a big hearty
laugh to frighten yourself.
Satish Verma, 10 october 2018
Thousand Moons
On the rim of a beer glass,
stand, white crystals of salt.
I was watching a pale moon.
*
The lone tree always
waits for the dipping moon,
to give a parting kiss.
*
I grieve for the viola.
Why does it extend one―
petal for a landing pad.
Satish Verma, 9 october 2018
Last Hope
When the dialogue stops
there will be a royal bleed.
I had not come to the
terms of slaughter.
Wanted now, to manage
the anguish incontinent.
Can you find some space in
waiting, for the hangman?
Footprints and invisible faces.
Somewhere a hope lives in amber.
Trapped light, in wintery dark,
will stop a seed to play the nocturne.
Satish Verma, 8 october 2018
Scrutinizing
This jungle of words.
Fear, like a badger
comes, and sits at my door.
*
The insects, I
am tired of them. All the
time I sit under a bo tree.
*
This city was
like an ocean, full
of predator sharks.
Satish Verma, 7 october 2018
The Futurist
Unpunctuating,
fear will slice the time,
and you will be a sitting duck
in the hands of brutal clock.
Drink, Apollo,
with round eyes and
limbless torso. He walks on
the curves, reciting mantras.
There was intrigue and blackmail
in return for not telling
the indiscretion of celibates.
A damp squib. There was lot
of hissing sound, but no
explosion. Procreatiom will
stop without fire.
Wants to return to pines.
The cones, the pricks and
swaying hips of splendid suggestion.
Satish Verma, 6 october 2018
Marigolds
Wanting to know about
the violence in cuckoo's nest?
Heard the first call to court a mate.
*
You are not lonely
today. Moonlight will be
there at night.
*
The dark melts to
spring a surprise.
Suddenly there are colors around.
Latest comments:
9 july 2025
violetta
Tak, tylko winko bezalkoholowe:)
9 july 2025
Belamonte/Senograsta
wisi, to był ten sam gagatek, chyba się opamiętał,
8 july 2025
jak ma na imie?
8 july 2025
jeden z nas
8 july 2025
nie da się
8 july 2025
Czego, piwa?:)
8 july 2025
Halki nie są aż takie cienkie:)
8 july 2025
No co ty:) nie akceptuję:)
8 july 2025
te diety są przerażające, gdzie zrozumienie
8 july 2025
wow. miałem kiedyś białą myszkę była wesoła
8 july 2025
i to jest piwołanie poety
8 july 2025
motyle moga nas opuścić i wtedy trzeba przejsc
10 july 2025
wiesiek
9 july 2025
wiesiek
8 july 2025
wiesiek
7 july 2025
jeśli tylko
5 july 2025
jeśli tylko
4 july 2025
Jaga
27 june 2025
Jaga
26 june 2025
Atanazy Pernat
23 june 2025
ajw
21 june 2025
Jaga