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Satish Verma, 27 april 2019
Golden Afternoon
No questions were taken
from unforgiving sword.
And the dead horse.
A river runs through your body
defining the wet castles.
You look into the eyes of the invader.
The palace intrigues dig in.
You cannot meet the princess.
The inevitability of war looms large.
You will finally know that every
body is mortal. The remains
are meant for the inconceivable.
The scripture versus a blank
page are on the collision course.
Satish Verma, 26 april 2019
Arresting The Tides
Talking of prudery,
you acquiesce in,
and let it go.
The eyes lit up
refraining from comment.
A fish jumps out of water,
and becomes mermaid.
How can you eat the raw moon?
The pubescence on the
young leaves was not
ready. Will you restrain
your hubris and foot soldiers?
The imminent descent
was evident. The fire breaks.
I am afraid, it will consume you all.
Satish Verma, 25 april 2019
Partition
My ultimate reply was
my silence. There was―
no need to ward off any
further questions.
It was time to take
a call of the ominous. Clouds
are dark and menacing. You
wanted the poverty of words to go.
But it enters again by back door,
standing along with you. The
great divide begins. The day
was on edge over sick patriarchy.
You will not get the fruits
nor seeds. Yet the cacti do not
need any propagation. Full
of spines, they are hardy.
A fake formula is being put
forward. Let there be a
collective suicide to save
the floundering world.
But I would not agree.
Satish Verma, 24 april 2019
Spelling Out
Half milk water and
half water milk.
The predators were happy.
How would you,
justify a self kill, in the
sea of medusae and whales.
That was not only
warts and all. There were holes
in the golden bucket,
and fount was dry.
The glass house. This
concept gives a jolt.
You cannot change
the masks. Deaf and
dumb.the sky was deaf and dumb.
You refuse to divulge the
name of assassin.
Satish Verma, 23 april 2019
Sulking Alone
Drum-beats were coming
nearer. The lineage is being questioned.
Archaeopteryx is being kicked.
upward. It was too slow;
was not able to fly.
Things are not moving, as you
want them, in romantic
relationship with the road.
A madness permeates. The
acolytes were busy in playing
the act, that all wars
will never come to end.
Anointing the salt smell as
savior, after the shadow-boxing.
The sparring must continue―
to find out the catwalk.
The ramp was going upward.
Satish Verma, 22 april 2019
Strange Dreams
The icon,
is a smoky gem,
like a random stone, hiding
a jewel.
You become an ex;
throwing the gauntlet
over the frozen
shoulder.
Everything glides
around you. I am sinking
in Bermuda Triangle.
The trembling hands
groping for―
the coral reef under the water.
The tiger will not
sleep tonight. You cannot
shut the eyes, when
I am being pit-roasted.
Satish Verma, 21 april 2019
The Time
There was a lapse
before the fall of moon.
I am standing in dark.
A wolf a day was
enough to eat me. The digital
pain seeps in the
sad ceremony.
Someone buries
the hatchet in stars far away,
wearing the black mask.
I steal your poeny.
Your velvety voice for the
sake of wronged yellow.
A candle burns
in the white room, bereft
of any trappings.
Satish Verma, 20 april 2019
Fake Encounters
When the surveillance increased,
the curtains started
falling. You were ready to
start the dialogue with death
holding off your hunger.
Each face had its history
scripted on the forehead. Dark is
after all dark. You unroll
the night-black lace and
confront the moon.
Under the old banyan tree
a dream lies with limbs tied.
A mob smears the vermillion on its body
and then starts lynching it.
I have only one question.
Why were we towed on
wrong leads for tallest peak?
Satish Verma, 19 april 2019
Not Invoking
This attitude rattles
me. Silence has―
become very vocal.
The body does not listen
now. A knife
has become celibate.
The unsung hero was
untainted and pure.
It was the veil, which was corrupt.
Are you ready for
the hang? The wrists cut
open were not bleeding.
The jewel of the fire
does not burn. Even the
purple hemlock is very sweet.
Satish Verma, 18 april 2019
Fangs Open
Aghast at the―
burning brutality and domination
of the glaring sun, I will
ask the moon, when will
it release the hormones.
A palm size,
unscripted poem, struggles
to come on the surface;
pulled between the moon
and the sea.
The libidinal instinct,
overtakes the activist. A newly
minted face throws the shadow;
equivocal. The traffic of
poppies will freeze in the tracks.
Here are the keys and
there were the locks.
Latest comments:
12 october 2024
jeśli tylko
tyle się o niej mówi, a dziwi, że przyszła..
12 october 2024
Nie da się ich hodować na balkonie :)
12 october 2024
takie mam blado liliowe, chłodne. Ale kwitną
12 october 2024
tak proste a plastyczne :)
12 october 2024
jest klimat :)
11 october 2024
Belamonte/Senograsta
to ciekawe, to może piszesz programy dla szkół?
11 october 2024
Dziękuję, widzę że nie wiem co z tego co
11 october 2024
sam53
jesień tak ma... :)))
10 october 2024
violetta
Piękne kwiaty, chcę takie na balkon:)
10 october 2024
Jaga
Zawsze znienacka jesień życia...
10 october 2024
Groch przez wieki był rzucany/ dzisiaj ściana
10 october 2024
Georginie jesienne :)
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
9 october 2024
wiesiek
9 october 2024
Satish Verma