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Satish Verma, 11 july 2016
You And Everybody
Again you made friends, words
wanted to leave the paper blank
for the parched lips,
crying eyes,
trembling hands.
Missing stanzas,
flowing river,
rootless floats.
You did not feel like-
time filled you every minute,
you were empty, poor.
When you read the end
you understood beginning.
Will to die was not sufficient
you had not completed the script.
Alone in crowd you wanted words
to commit suicide.
Democracy was a funny name.
Everybody was sad, except the lead
who did not know where to go.
One day you found your voice
and were surprised
you were everybody
when you were hurt, you bled inside
and your blood then mixed with
the blood of everybody. Then everybody cried
and you became separated from you and did not say anything!
Satish Verma, 9 july 2016
The Spirit
How long will it go
this hurricane?
Let me go, open the sails
and put the boat on high sea.
Water is deep and blue, wind is strong
and I want to do it again
Tonight I will break the vow of moon
and bring it down.
Who knows where I land
the school of sharks
or turbulent isle
the body will be lowered to feed the hungry waves.
I was used to upheavals
up and down, up and down
and slept on pillow of clouds
who will wash the mirror today.
I am not going to die
not now but for ever
I will cleave, my body, my soul, my thoughts
into thousand pieces, each will grow into I.
Floral and thorned, rosy and scented
opening like a tribute
to fetishes of yore
The spirit must live.
Satish Verma, 8 july 2016
Revocation
A grandson sails through the century
jumps into the chair of grandfather
and revokes the death penalty
for the iconoclast who refuses to be alive.
A truth should be deemed again
to find the mystery of death.
Between man and divinity
lies the fiction
which no body wants to write off.
Green goes the sea in full moon
the earth has a debt to pay.
Sometimes you walk a long distance
to know when the sun will rise.
Unchanged remains the odor of wind.
The chest feels the punch
fetching the burden of roaring sounds
in the domain of soundless solitude.
The grandfather is lifted by untainted words.
Still swallowing the emotions
the peacocks on a tall tree scrambling,
scream in unison.
Satish Verma, 7 july 2016
Anniversary
Hydrangia was in full bloom
when I left.
Machine had failed me,
when I was looking at the
third eye of the sun
in crimson sky of west.
I was running away from myself
keys were chasing unbroken latches
the moon was yet to be born
in blackness.
The foetus turns
strikes the womb with violent kicks
who was the father of unknown child?
Let’s go and meet in dementia.
Three cheers for the wedding boot
turns the man into a snail.
Death now enters
to cross the threshold of tears
and listen to soulful
nightingale.
Satish Verma, 6 july 2016
…… Stunned Me
It was dull green
under the weather,
foliage of a tall weeping Ashoka.
All day the sun had beaten down mercilessly
At night, under the shimmering shade of stars
somebody left a body of a child
wrapped in a red rag at the foot of the giant,
where the roots were jutting out from earth like a basket
to receive a birthday present.
A gift from a veiled shame.
Shutting out the breath,
a purple death by asphyxiation
A pink doll: mist draped in dew and flower.
Death was no stranger
among the saints and beasts.
Stone to stone,
stunned me.
I was discovering the life.
Satish Verma, 5 july 2016
Countdown
Are you genuine, I ask?
Your face, a stone wall,
I had been bruising my psyche against it.
I have no strength to bury myself alive,
in the mass grave of lies.
An ancient fear
descends from the hill.
Wants to marry a tree.
Or worship the terror
of a diaspora.
The vultures are dying every day,
We were talking of pregnancy,
desire and death.
The sparrows are gone.
Heat is rising.
I am starting the countdown.
Satish Verma, 4 july 2016
Lone Journey
Goats and camels
My caravan moves on sand dunes
to cross the desert of hunger and want.
Give a sharp prick
draw the pure blood
and don’t cry at the sight of violence
in the sky
I am not going to die.
It is galloping dark
there is absolute stillness in the air
and I have fallen in love
with the whistling breeze.
Somebody is pawing, clawing at my back
as if trying to maul
the back of a denuded totem.
Moon is watching helplessly.
An owl on a branch
looks straight, flaps
flies away.
Unpeeled clouds are now walking away.
Dew will settle
among the thirsty fields.
Satish Verma, 3 july 2016
Morsels
Talking of nameless and unhappy death
I resume the pathos of recluse
if not, what do I do after the sunset?
The shadow themes are picking up
and I am saying, 'No, I cannot do it,
may not do it, will not do it.'
I have been a drifter, did not grow roots
between the desire and wish. I had been
hopping from a thing to nothing.
Pretending my privilege, I ask the periwinkle
how do you do it,
remaining evergreen?
A smile spread on the calyx
the kind of a rainbow.
That was the answer.
No trace of bitterness, just the innocence
after many hurts. Life prods, life knocks,
natural and unfathomed pain. Must it leave
a scar? Live as you are, I say.
The blackened bread, the fudge,
whatsoever comes on the way
the flavor should be sweet.
They are morsels of confession.
Satish Verma, 2 july 2016
Verdict
The point was, he had swallowed
the pawn.
The world rips apart
and ultimate wintering
sets in.
Shy of one truth,
the hour of reckoning demands
the blood facts.
You could have destroyed
me if I were to sing.
There were no crisis. Dismemberment
went on to squeeze honey
from the hapless victims chanting
Hail Mary.
I sizzled in vain.
Choking on your trumped up
victory, you will break in the house
to find the silver god stolen from
a golden mantel.
You climb on a tall tree and
then disappear in clear blue.
Satish Verma, 1 july 2016
Retreat
Remember it not.
Oblivion,
Let it slide into cave.
The annual rings of old wood are
hurting.
Tree of life burning inside.
It cannot happen
it can happen.
There is no certainty.
this is certainty.
Bread with hoofs
no butter, no udder
no milk.
A spider in the bottle
slumbers on gaint legs
watches with red eyes.
Time to feed.
The aroma of sea.
Pungent smell of brown algae
the bathing moon,
a lone boat.
Did you know why I admire defeat,
retreat:
Perfect solitude,
featureless calm.
Latest comments:
18 july 2025
Jaga
Stare zdejmujemy, nowych nie zamawiamy.
18 july 2025
Słońce czyni cuda w włoskami ;))
18 july 2025
Dziękuję :)
18 july 2025
Niejeden taki.
18 july 2025
Weronika
Barszczem.
17 july 2025
sam53
przychodzi codziennie... bez zaproszenia... pcha
16 july 2025
Właśnie na kręgosłup, to najpopularniejszy
16 july 2025
jeśli tylko
Może zależy pod schorzenia. Na kręgosłup
16 july 2025
między czwartą a piątą.. ;)
16 july 2025
To zależy od województwa. Wcześniej u nas,
16 july 2025
na przydział, bo bo wniosek o sanatorium złożony
16 july 2025
Belamonte/Senograsta
męskie są?
18 july 2025
wiesiek
17 july 2025
wiesiek
16 july 2025
wiesiek
15 july 2025
wiesiek
14 july 2025
jeśli tylko
14 july 2025
wiesiek
14 july 2025
Jaga
12 july 2025
wiesiek
10 july 2025
wiesiek
9 july 2025
wiesiek