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Satish Verma, 1 august 2020
The Earthen Death
Spurned,
staring into a void-
for a door,
burning a sage.
Wearing a veil to ward off
the curse.
You start the baby steps
getting there, near the noose,
weighing the planks.
Now you are breathing fast,
getting a hit, counting
the hymns.
The corrupt booms
rise and fall.
An overt withdrawal
from the bet, to sacrifice the bliss.
White lilies washed,
in tears, let down the shawls.
You can see the holy vice.
Satish Verma, 31 july 2020
With Dignity
What is that of this,
I will ask from the question
which sleeps on the twisted lip.
The probity suffers,
when you burn your white paper.
Why did not you write your name?
The cortex invades
medulla. Your kidneys falter.
The sense and price become one.
A nude opend the pride.
The curves, the slants will
ask you to become the flic,
but you become a god,
accept the knife's version
and bleed to death.
Satish Verma, 30 july 2020
Between This And That
There was a trust deficit
between the rose petals, under
the wheels and the moving feet.
It does not resolve the ancient
conflict of man with
the machine via perfume.
The smell of the pungent smoke,
sits in the empty chairs,
when you were left alone on the burning deck.
Where the sky meets
the ocean, my ship had sunk
amidst the blood and the blaze.
In absentia, I am baffled
by the time's minute, when the search
of the self goes unending.
Satish Verma, 27 july 2020
My Opus Was Melting
I was preparing myself
for a Socratic dialogue, when
you come unannounced.
If lie was the answer,
then where was the truth.
Meet me night before
night with naked names,
smashing the space and time.
The invisible particles at last are in view.
Can you count after the
trillionth number, eighteenth
digits and beyond.
Nothing gives me peace.
I want to say, I am the God
to end the discussion.
That ignites an explosion
and we begin our journey again.
Satish Verma, 26 july 2020
Understatement
Perched on a tree high
wave,
a moon was talking long
to me.
A live-in partenership
was in vogue. We always
loved each other breasts apart.
The weather was changing.
A plane load of tears would
disappear without a trace.
From somewhere a benign
lump explodes, making night,
a brilliant dream of
sleeping sky.
The hare jumps on the moon,
to snatch away the ambulatory
age, browsing around the death.
Satish Verma, 25 july 2020
What Next
Between the swaying palms,
moon was moving
in armada.
Why did you come
late, to whisper, of the
explosive explicit?
But for a lone
cry, I would not
take you.
The jewels were mine.
You had stolen
from my waistband.
It substracts the
stings from my
hobbling gait.
Satish Verma, 24 july 2020
Waiting To Happen
Being you,
not the bee queen.
Volatile as it appears, would say
one day, I don't know you yet.
The estranged mogul
returns home, empty-
handed.
Don't tell me in
stark and straight words, one
needs clemency.
The flame had touched me.
A strange panorama, created
by the geometry of violence,
now hurts.
Speed and direction
liberates the path breaker.
Resonance of your voice rises,
reading the same poem
again and again.
Segmented icons would not sleep
on the same bed.
Satish Verma, 23 july 2020
Revealing
When you take a false
lead, life will undo the seeds
and the cataracts freeze.
This is the story of
a butterfly, in disturbing amber
buried in snowfall.
Can your body take the imprints of flogging?
When you start sketching the polar ice
in the story of death, compounding
the mystry of
unleashing sea
of the fawn eyes, whose message
was sent in water?
Satish Verma, 22 july 2020
False Accusations
Every night you become
an insect, crawl into
the bed and chew the lips of unknown,
listening to the music
of flowing blood.
Outside the slogans-
tear at you. It was a wound
night, the words, untouching the space,
go- straight into the echos,
without any halo.
So where did you sink in
defiant orange of the sea,
while turning back from your designed
path? Another terrorist's sexism
was on play?
There were no barnacles, no
frog mimicry. I silent walk into
the arena to find the length of
the caravan.
Satish Verma, 20 july 2020
The Décor
Sexist barbs against
wooden breasts, street-smart.
I am something not, I am. A wall
of tears. Liquid nicotine, I will not declare
myself, creating a poem in different ways.
Waywarding, protégé digs the gullies―
becoming unfaithful to himself. The
hope, will it be extinguished? The
tall mud slide, a devastating statement
burying you, me, everyone.
A black beetle, collecting carcasses,
to feed the young. It is on the rise,
green sea. I cannot see myself bleed,
by the grasshoppers. It is like
committing suicide solo.
Latest comments:
14 october 2024
Ananke
extra, szczególnie początkowe wersy, czytam
14 october 2024
czegoś za mało, albo za dużo, choć jest tu
14 october 2024
wszystko mi się podoba, oprócz : "bramy
14 october 2024
mnóstwo, mnóstwo.....
14 october 2024
tylko...co robiłeś pod mostem ;)
14 october 2024
czekała, czekała i się nie doczekała
14 october 2024
ostatnio widziałam co może zrobić tzn sztuczna
14 october 2024
kaszka, kaszka, jeszcze mega świeża ;p
14 october 2024
:*
14 october 2024
Jaga
Światło kolory snom przywraca :)
14 october 2024
Kołysząc się na księżycu/ gdy na niebie
14 october 2024
Miłości się wszystko wybacza :)
14 october 2024
Jaga
14 october 2024
wiesiek
14 october 2024
Eva T.
13 october 2024
Satish Verma
12 october 2024
Satish Verma
11 october 2024
Satish Verma
10 october 2024
wiesiek
10 october 2024
Jaga
10 october 2024
Eva T.
10 october 2024
Satish Verma