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Satish Verma, 6 december 2016
An Absolution
Why were you afraid
of unknown?
I am washing away
the whole truth in the vicinity
of discrepant nouns.
The words will articulate
the body overrun by rough
handling of the golden triangle.
The arrival does not stop
the allegro.
Claustrophilia enslaves you.
You start a new journey
towards a non-space and non-entity.
Was there anything beyond the naught.
I have come faraway.
Will not return to numbers.
Satish Verma, 5 december 2016
What Asylum!
Come and meet me in chamber of death
where the tempest comes every night.
I start disrobing the anger
to find the eye of the moon.
Where do I get that ink that
writes an unwritten poem on water
of eyes when the ship was
burning after a rare landing.
Come and meet me in sleep of an infant.
It was time to start a dialogue
with golden death sitting on the
greed of man. The lips were extracting
the other honey from frozen moon.
Come and meet me in merciless sun.
Satish Verma, 4 december 2016
The Fall
You were starving the words
to commit the waves of hunger.
What I wanted was a patch of shade
under an olive grove.
No intrusion. It was a miscarriage
of justice. We were searching the -
missing links between the years
of misunderstandings.
We sell our gods and move on
unquietly to understand the-
lament of middle of the road, when
sun was nestling in the clouds.
It was Fall. Fall of vanity, fall of
integrity. Fall, fall-
my pride, my tears. The season
was changing.
Satish Verma, 3 december 2016
Song Of Unquiet Spirit
Staples were traveling on the
epiderm, thanking the wounds.
The dust, the eternal ugliness
were growling.
Riveting drama:
a royal swanking for a macabre
heist. A bizarre charisma
overtakes the cozy lips.
I was green,
and I was a cloud
where the sunflowers meet
beneath the sun.
Blind poppies assert themselves
unfurling a flag of milky sap.
The wasps were going-
to become stingless.
Satish Verma, 2 december 2016
Perception
Lips of clay tend to bleed
my kisses.
And the distant moon treads
softly on the spent passion.
A private crimson
blunts the whiteness of moon.
The birds-
step out from the fog.
Last moments -
of the bell to announce
the schizophrenic flesh
sailing like snowflakes.
A primordial fear -
was destroying the profile of man.
Here it goes-
the spiritual enigma.
A blast
of stunned silence:
I am collecting pebbles
from the trees.
Satish Verma, 1 december 2016
Homing
Like each dropp of your humbleness
engulfing my urbanite woes;
the graffiti emerges in tender grace
to resurrect a windmill.
My spirit, the abode of small birds
carrying the sunset on its back
was returning home for the final-
sleep in the lap of twilight.
When autumn comes and crippled,
brown leaves start falling, I will
set the birds free in the winds
to find their new master.
The nest will weep for the broken song.
In space between the eyes, lies the negation
which will not accept the peace of a
grave. I will follow the wilderness-
of thoughts again.
Satish Verma, 29 november 2016
Sidelined
A sorcerer moon was rising
amidst grizzly clouds.
A lurid willingness of night
to surrender was evident-
skimming the stars.
A pact was inked between an
antiheroine and a renegade.
An apostate-
will find the refuge in serenades.
The feline grace jars the sexism
by sitting on the fence.
A blue ocean will churn out
the urn of lethal poison.
That flame. Can you kill
the wolf? The tricks of
child-molesting were
on the big screen.
Satish Verma, 28 november 2016
Discretion
Some apologies for the anatomy.
Stain -
has shifted to moon.
No fragrance, no color, no dewfall.
Night has been spooked.
Disconnected - I will meet the
transparent truth about the lies
of a prose. Sick earth will receive
the dismembered verse in locked embrace
of bloody limbs.
Raw diamonds-
will teach to play with sex
in the house of terror. When -
you forget the space between
the clouds and thighs.
Between good and bad
I bleed.
Satish Verma, 27 november 2016
Casualties
I am standing in peat.
The war drags on.
The dirt is raw,
squirting on to fingernails
turning them blue.
Who was running away
from hinges?
The genital warts were
spreading. The cold facts will
wear casuistry. The train
derails. Only the earth
is hurt.
Dreams cannot close the
wounds. You want to go
where the jungle is. Teeth
are broken. Eyes
become the house for ants.
Satish Verma, 26 november 2016
Half-Man
In the exodus of emotions
I try to flee human fears
in earth hour.
The sky will not be civil to me.
You had become a dark flame
like port wine.
Who was changing
the skin like a snake?
I was busy cupping a hemangioma
on the face of a moon.
Tucked between the breasts
a dream fumbles with a cyclone.
One more city dies
in my head. The streets
are walking back.
Latest comments:
9 july 2025
violetta
Tak, tylko winko bezalkoholowe:)
9 july 2025
Belamonte/Senograsta
wisi, to był ten sam gagatek, chyba się opamiętał,
8 july 2025
jak ma na imie?
8 july 2025
jeden z nas
8 july 2025
nie da się
8 july 2025
Czego, piwa?:)
8 july 2025
Halki nie są aż takie cienkie:)
8 july 2025
No co ty:) nie akceptuję:)
8 july 2025
te diety są przerażające, gdzie zrozumienie
8 july 2025
wow. miałem kiedyś białą myszkę była wesoła
8 july 2025
i to jest piwołanie poety
8 july 2025
motyle moga nas opuścić i wtedy trzeba przejsc
12 july 2025
wiesiek
12 july 2025
wiesiek
10 july 2025
wiesiek
9 july 2025
wiesiek
8 july 2025
wiesiek
7 july 2025
jeśli tylko
5 july 2025
jeśli tylko
4 july 2025
Jaga
27 june 2025
Jaga
26 june 2025
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