Satish Verma, 19 may 2024
If you come near
the moon, you will find the
collective grief.
Someone sets free
hundreds of fireflies
to begin talk with me.
The angels are
becoming boneless. Your throne
is dirty. Temple sobs.
Satish Verma, 18 may 2024
Grey air. I will come to myself, igniting
the fire. When will be ground reality known?
Standing on the cusp of pain.
It was not a legitimised, valorused decision.
When you will leave the things as
they are. I tossed the new born thoughts.
Great walls were crumbling
unfolding the ugly ephemeral cults.
Who gnaws my poems? Don't search
my unuttered words for your maturation.
Satish Verma, 17 may 2024
You were my mistake, O god
The road doesn't open now.
My hands cannot reach
to catch the salvo of anonymity
The pain differs from the flesh
Untouched, unbroken and stubborn.
You smell like jasmine.
The blood enfolds the injuries.
An ambush takes a violent turn.
You know who commands the wishes.
Satish Verma, 16 may 2024
What did you hurl?
Tell me all the lies. Pain―
and truth stand on stage.
Predawn jasmines,
open their eyes to
salute the sun.
A ligature bruise
on the body of moon speaks
of brutal assault.
Satish Verma, 15 may 2024
What blurs from tear
to tear, bone to bone? What was the
real ? Peace will never come.
If you are virtual, I
will become a truth. The horizon
plants the moons one by one.
We are crazy. Running
again after the triangle, clefted by
the voices of sharp knives.
Satish Verma, 14 may 2024
You have to die
to live again for bloodline.
See how the wind blows.
The black roses go
in flames. I change myself
to understand you.
There was no niche
in your wall to place my
deity to mirror me.
Satish Verma, 13 may 2024
A cat crosses a bridge
alone. Moon looks down to find
the river. Ducks were holding the boat.
Who wants to return to
equity or brutality? Fear and
uncertainty cast the future.
Sand waves bring reprisal.
Divides the hearts. Your paradigm invites
perjury. I am going to ignite the flames.
Satish Verma, 11 may 2024
I feel the deja vu.
The mysterious cascades
give the amnesty to thorns
Were you ready to ambush the
bete-noire? We don’t know how to
celebrate the colossus Himalaya .
The god doesn't want
to inhale the ether and kill the
bushmaster. Venom turns milk.
Satish Verma, 10 may 2024
You will say what you
did not want to say, about
golden ring of coins.
Glittering colors
hurt the blue eyes in sun.
Pain of earth cries.
Will you sing an
anthem for the departing
soul of unmasked angel?
Satish Verma, 8 may 2024
Hiding your thoughts
you communicate. Lips don't
move. Silence speaks.
Unhinged, wither
autocracy. Why you were
unbreakable?
The panic of the
neutral sex, delivers the
body of message.
Satish Verma, 6 may 2024
Your layers are
thick. You will invite the
stains of fallen stars.
Why you want to sell
a fake idea, wrapped
in tears of sunken eyes?
A moon wants to cry
at harvest time Come September,
we collect the bowls.
Satish Verma, 5 may 2024
Exiled. Walking on rope.
Priceless life. Pain unyielding.I
never expected to flee water.
Why do men personalize?
The moon is divided by the tall trees.
Memory collects the leaves.
A stunning rise, You
are building yourself brick by brick.
The perseids will come verbatim.
Satish Verma, 4 may 2024
Dividing the sand
hill you urge the moon to undress.
The partition of serenity will decide love.
The agony turns with
moonlight. Coming to simplicity
it has made worse of pierced feet.
Expansionism tries
to crumble the architect of gothic
politics. Invisible fate was calling again.
Satish Verma, 3 may 2024
When will you go
in dark to explore the yawning
abyss of man's heart?
To rub the flesh and
bones to unmake god's will?
You truly want answer?
You don't want miracles.
Had you not covered my wounds
in blind oceans?
Satish Verma, 1 may 2024
A mysterious nudge
wakes an idea in you.
Can you think differently?
See through your
mind, by virtue of birth
and death of past.
Don't you cover
your face with wrinkles.
Sun will never die.
Satish Verma, 30 april 2024
Inquiring myself
to understand the goddess
of visitations.
This world was not
my choice. Space was shrinking,
and time expanding.
I walk in the crowd
to be lynched on the name
of forgotten god.
Satish Verma, 29 april 2024
You were not sin.
Pain interrupted to trigger
an ancient love.
Marigolds were in
bloom. Copper― brown. Your body
does not belong to you.
Paper dreams fly
to catch the moon in dark.
Time to burn wings.
Satish Verma, 28 april 2024
Dying red leaves were
ready for a blitzkrieg. The spectre
of blood river returns suddenly.
The consistent failure
brings the dewy tears. Tell me--was it
writing on the threadbare body of pain.
Ah a dust song comes
from a comet's tail. A thunderstorm
has a hole. It is the eye of the grim reaper.
Satish Verma, 27 april 2024
You can see whole
world in my mouth. I start
knitting a blood scarf.
To raise gender,
thebeestings will play a role.
The skin prints history.
You become your
own teacher to read the hymns
engraved on leaves.
Satish Verma, 26 april 2024
I take a lesson
from you O god, before
I write the end.
Who will rise from
the dust of the ruins after
the volcanic blast?
A celebration was
stalled when you had landed
on the dark moon.
Satish Verma, 25 april 2024
Light digs up the hope.
You appear like pure flint.
Sorrow will tell truth.
Weep weep my sun.
Black hole will swallow you.
No need to drink hemlock.
The blank paper has
hidden markings. God wants
to become mortal.
Satish Verma, 24 april 2024
The answers look
at questions, like sparrows
did not find home.
Where wouldgo, the
butterfly poems, to color
the barren thoughts?
You glide like river
of blood in the eyes of
wounded moon.
Adam Pietras (Barry Kant), 23 april 2024
---Living inside a Master-Piece
Nothing to say living inside a Master-Piece.
As I've been younger - I searched for existential police.
All is left to overlook and to smile
Some challenge zen for a while.
Angelic women believe in something - that's so far from my mind
Although I've become an indifferent kind.
For me? Precisely everything - can be so very nice
As I get my whiskey with ice.
I don't mean there is something too bad
It just looks as I am - of rather ironic clad.
---Regret
There is a little bit of hate in my wound.
Nobody knows how those muddy things
Come inside;
A spark from far away dives into the World
Though it's hard to love one's own dirt.
---With no Craft
Empty sadness as I laid
Though someone - needed me to stay;
And I used to comtemplate this subject:
With no Craft - I found myself an object.
So deeply pleased - as the Other enjoyed my fruits
So I stood up and worn my boots -
Let's take a mile or seven
Follow me - we'll go to Heaven...
Satish Verma, 22 april 2024
Can you foretell of the
death-like the hound― after
the loss of game?
Past my last poems I
will meet you one day
to settle the debts.
I was incomplete
in my wholeness. I will dissect
the words for bleeds.
sam53, 21 april 2024
czasami błąkam się po naszych pustych nocach
szukam ciebie między słowami pośród oddechów
wyobraźnią zaginam przestrzeń
w której spotykają się nasze usta oczy nosy
pozwalamy sobie na bliskość jak cieniom w zakamarkach piwnic
albo światłom które mnożą się z miłości
nie upominamy się o pocałunki w każdym wierszu
wystarczy że jesteśmy dla siebie
Satish Verma, 21 april 2024
You didn't want to
age, rediscovering,
pain of birth, to live.
To remain atheist
was better than many gods. You
belong to yourself.
Juxtaposed with
blank walls, a bohemian
draws image of sin.
Satish Verma, 20 april 2024
I tried to sleep
under the sun at night. From moon
to moon summoning the pains.
Someone wants to cut
the clouds. I was indebted to darkness.
Blue light comes to kiss me.
The witch-hazel wails.
Let the blood flow from the eyes
of crying earth. Do you listen?
Satish Verma, 19 april 2024
A forgotten truth
lands softly on the wet grass.
I had lost the words.
The moon was cut on
table to taste the honey of
towering love.
The hidden face
in womb of the earth smiles
in darkness of pain.
Satish Verma, 18 april 2024
I would be thinking
of you in dangerous journey.
Who was redeemer?
When tree eats
its own roots, I become
sad. What role I play?
Thoughts tremble.
I cannot stop you burning.
I weep with my God.
Satish Verma, 17 april 2024
Did you open it,
the red rose? Was it a sacrilege
to give an erotic response?
Golden door seldom
opens. We want eye contact
with the sun, envious of the moon.
A cut in pitch black
does not bring the light. The moon
always waits for the lover.
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