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Satish Verma, 24 november 2020
Ecce Homo
When silence stays alone
in the hollow of the eyes,
would you come?
In the audacity of
beauty and pain, when
the moon does not rise.
Like beggars the clouds
roam, parting the
sky for a glimpse of a vision.
We will speak like
strangers not looking into the eyes.
Not quite sure-
you blinked. Time to return
back the gifts of ocean
profound and deep.
Pearls, tears and half-angel.
Satish Verma, 23 november 2020
Vengeance
Arithmetic becomes poetry,
when you start counting the stars in Milky Way.
Light will cross
your path. Your own sun
becomes a logic.
You step into a holy bath
to collect all the scripts
of the dark circles.
Where the infinity starts,
you become the center?
of all the conflicts.
A simple way to burn
without throwing light.
How would you raise your finger?
Satish Verma, 22 november 2020
The Face In Flames
Salt-of-the lips.
You never know, how it hurts
the bigotry.
It was not the might
of divinity, when you sentence
the child for blasphemy.
I would not kiss the-
stone, where the blood stained
the sun. Grey halo was collapsing.
It was the helplessness
of the river, accepting the guilt
of sunken boat.
Again I recite your name
in sleep. The sting was as cruel
as the tongue.
Satish Verma, 21 november 2020
Never Again
You to whom, I
am lost, the remaining pain
will fetch the grace-
poise and dignity of
ending.
The future lies in-
the halo of the hill, where
the blood was spilled last night.
A black spot on the sun was
enlarging. I spell your name
in a bird song, that croons
tirelessly in timeless dawn.
The moon drenched lake
wails for the boat not to come.
Satish Verma, 20 november 2020
Levitating In Solitude
The heartwood had the ingrained
dream map, to reach the
divine shape of a solemn god, who
was guiding the sap.
One day you would go deep
in dark, to find your roots
where tomorrow was conceived.
And in the ruins, you will
find the warmth of
your peers, still walking on the god-particles.
A religion now takes over
the mob, ready to plunge into yellow
sands of dry river.
The hopes and promises,
give you a horizon, far away.
Your want to touch this furnace,
that brings the burning day of solitude.
Satish Verma, 19 november 2020
Welcoming New Era
Wearing the red bandanna,
you tried to manipulate the bedrock.
Life had been never the same for me.
The ferry sinks the riding
deity in midstream. In polytheism,
I never had my own god.
O the chemistry of love has
changed. Meatless, my skiny arms,
lift the sage of fallen moon in darkness.
I am not ready to conclude
as yet, my epic of fragmented truth.
We were fighting the wars of lame lies.
Who would spare me to become
immortal in stones? Let us not start the
annihilation of sane shadows in the poem.
Satish Verma, 18 november 2020
Stone-Faced
Your interpretation
was a miracle of
unbelieving. I was not
a flesh eater.
Between paradise
and a hut, lies the sky
of colored dreams. You
lean forward to-
pluck the moon.
So stoned, was the
sinister design, that
you walked straight
into the arms of stings.
It has become a
strange saga, when a
moth burns, without
a candle.
A sun nosedives with
a water motif on the lips.
Satish Verma, 11 november 2020
Victory March
The living dead are going to
ask for the right to be
forgotten in gender dysphoria.
In grimed apparel,
the deities were deported back
to the barn, for housing the antiques.
The future turns blue,
moon-eyed, hooking up the
hopes of running heels.
Is that true that there
will be mass suicide after
the fall of the fort?
The fat lanterns now
don't throw the light. Incense
of burning flesh floats.
Satish Verma, 10 november 2020
The Ephemerality
It was punctuated night.
You sleep into wakefulness.
The space between the shut-eyes
trembles, when you start sweating.
The infant-death of the dream,
incites the borderland. The-
flames rise in a partisan way,
to erase the memories of guilt.
You are in deep grief for the
coiled sperms, from end to end,
they were longer than the body.
Would you like to wake up a jinn?
A digital forgetfulness, you seek
to solve the enigma of life.
Satish Verma, 8 november 2020
Walking In Woods
This spectrum.
No it will not work.
I am not there in the
shade, smoke filled barn, or-
in secular morgue.
Stubble burning was
like legend of war.
How do I shut the
door of diamond moon-
in the kingdom of
weeping night?
An animal in you
will not sleep, claiming the
innocence of baby steps.
A virginal vanity.
Nobody stops you to
display the grains of salt.
Would you listen to the land,
flight of words-
passage of time?
Latest comments:
13 october 2024
jeśli tylko
tak się zawsze mówiło :)
13 october 2024
artystowski..
13 october 2024
tak, to jest ten konkret (jeden widz) którego
13 october 2024
violetta
Fajne bytowania:)
13 october 2024
Imieniny Kota:)
13 october 2024
Belamonte/Senograsta
Jedna pani śpiewała Arię z Carmen tylko dla
13 october 2024
Jaga
taniec pingwina na szkle...
13 october 2024
klaskanie jedną ręką
12 october 2024
Weronika
Dialog jednej osoby.
12 october 2024
no, też tak mam, nie wiem co się porobiło,
12 october 2024
prawie wszystkie wiersze są o przyrodzie
12 october 2024
tyle się o niej mówi, a dziwi, że przyszła..
13 october 2024
wiesiek
13 october 2024
Satish Verma
12 october 2024
wiesiek
12 october 2024
Satish Verma
11 october 2024
wiesiek
11 october 2024
Satish Verma
10 october 2024
wiesiek
10 october 2024
Jaga
10 october 2024
Eva T.
10 october 2024
Satish Verma