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poetry
Satish Verma, 21 march 2022
Straight From Dark
Moon was walking
like your shadow,
grabs you from behind
and drowns you
in water.
This was a battle cry
for a beach murder.
This will a become a talk
of the crowd.
Light enters a bone
and you start glowing.
Was it a realization
of the awakening? The
pain becomes your angel―
of skin.
The cuts and wounds become
your words of unknown poem.
Why you want to play
hide and seek with strangers?
Satish Verma, 20 march 2022
Red Light
A maverick―
neither tears, nor scabs
I wanted to cheat myself.
Confection may go awry.
I prepare the new text
of wearing the pain.
I want you to stay
beside me, when I am unseated―
holding the clouds.
Discarding golden viscera.
This was my last journey
for taking revenge.
Undulation over. There
will be a vertical
drop on the nails.
On the black stones a fig tree wavers.
Satish Verma, 19 march 2022
In Reversal
The philanderer―
an anti-man, comes for regaining
moral conscience. I
pledge my peels.
Ocimum was not ready
to marry a giant tree.
This war will never be over.
The skin, the deep voice
within, were wakeful in dark. There
was no hope to revive the naked soul.
The sea and the whale.
Competing for death-dance.
Blue sky kills the stars.
Now I will become mute,
watching the jewel-thief…
taking away the golden calf.
Satish Verma, 18 march 2022
In Ecstasy And Pain
Stargazing
under a new sky.
Buried in the sands
of time,
to locate the gate of moon.
Nothing else moves
in my thoughts, except
a Venus fly-trap.
Your hinged, slanted
eyes, capturing my words.
Then your maze bleeds
in the spotless dawn
of baby year.
Between a mortal
and a saint.
I hang my mirror
to prove the divinity of the dust
of god.
Satish Verma, 17 march 2022
A Life's Worth
The brown dust―
floats, while reading
poetry.
It was my first―
love with the dancing words
in the jungle of departures.
The genocide of―
reliefs. I erect a shrine
for the slaughter of unknown.
Innocently, I utter―
your name in dark, that
lights up the aubade.
Strange things happen.
I stand where the roads don't cross
parting the emptiness.
The deadpan. Another city falls.
Satish Verma, 16 march 2022
A Day Was Crying
Can you define this relationship?
In a tumultuous city
I was missing…
But in this absence I become whole.
A chemical clock becomes awry.
Night was my poem
I was writing for the moon
and throwing a handful of dust
to meet the dust.
Black flamingo will not
eat tonight. Wading through the
water, its will broken,
searching the pink eyes.
How do I catch you when
you have flown away?
Satish Verma, 15 march 2022
Faultlessly
Trending like a
dog walker, the disheveled
moon, comes out
from the cocoon, to welcome
the new year.
This was a flash point
of pure sulphur,
to steal the kisses in rose valley
of violence.
And you stand at crossbones
to kill, or get killed.
The leader climbs down
to sin, to predate
the celebration of womb's disaster.
Earth trembles
in anticipation. A merciless
shreak comes out from the
man-of-war.
Satish Verma, 14 march 2022
No Rivalry
Something― you wanted to
say, which you would not.
Planet breaks― disheveled, weeping
being― unbeing.
Sometimes you play a game
of trembling legs―
waiting to run away
from your anguished inside.
The last hour of night
blinks. A baby sun about
to be born, and you find yourself
unprepared.
The black letters, on yellow
pages, under the streetlight
dance. A fat dream burns.
A book bleeds.
Satish Verma, 12 march 2022
Thinking Again
Not finding a path
to truth,
going beyond the gods. You
will not listen to my pleas―
still frozen in unthruths.
Death opens the―
holy darkness. I am aware of
the bluffs and black voodoos,
insertion of pins.
Moon-bitten, chasing
the blood cherries, you reach
for the yogi cult in trance.
Every night becomes green.
The sacred knife, cuts
the knot, sort of a hinge.
A celebration starts
throwing stones
on each other.
Satish Verma, 11 march 2022
Waiting For New Year
A lengthy day
to count an arch of colored dreams
in a long queue.
You start sinking
inch by inch, in a deep
obsession of vengeance.
Afraid to leave
the darkness. Cannot see
in the bright glare of sun.
The fall of liberty.
To tell the name of venoms.
How the man has become
a poisonous creep.
An insult to the poet,
singer and artist. Who was
responsible for changing the guards?
Tomorrow was far off.
I am still struggling with today.
Latest comments:
5 october 2024
sam53
dziękuję też wypadałoby... choć ta dzisiejsza
5 october 2024
Belamonte/Senograsta
ekwiwokacja słowa wielkość
4 october 2024
Eva T.
I tak chyba pozostanie :)
4 october 2024
:)
4 october 2024
Z przedpokoju :)
4 october 2024
Weronika
Wszelkie poznanie jest aspektowe, więc do końca
4 october 2024
violetta
Można to zmienić:)
4 october 2024
jeśli tylko
lisi ogon :)
4 october 2024
pieprz w szyszeczkach :)
4 october 2024
Nathas
jaki będę tej jesieni otulony koszmarem zatopiony
4 october 2024
18. wers zgubiłeś "c" we ... wciąż 25.wers
4 october 2024
petunie... non olet?
5 october 2024
wiesiek
5 october 2024
Eva T.
5 october 2024
Satish Verma
4 october 2024
Eva T.
4 october 2024
Satish Verma
3 october 2024
Eva T.
3 october 2024
Jaga
3 october 2024
Eva T.
3 october 2024
Satish Verma
2 october 2024
wiesiek