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Satish Verma, 24 april 2016
A Love Story
Have not asked much,
still attached to you with subtelities,
I wanted freedom from you,
For removing stings from the flesh.
Anxiety was the darkest color
of floating buds on lake.
Sitting on the edge of panic,
I started counting the waves.
Mixed emotions always subtract a smile
Just lonely, I went for the swim in rimless agony.
Have not heard much of you in ages.
Still memories crop up for a while.
I wanted nemesis from you.
Talking of blue and white clouds
love has many moods.
Devastated by a burning moon
I was wishing a watery burial.
Satish Verma, 23 april 2016
………….. Afraid Of Whom?
Coming out of the cemetry,
Faith, does not tell you the truth.
Becomes chaste innocence,
Of imbeciles.
How shabbily life treats you sometimes?
Tossing you on garbage, squeezing
your brain, smashing your marrow
and turning you into pulp.
We are all eyes, but no vision.
Ownership of a spinning pain,
does not entitle you for a liberation
and a gift of guardian pendant does not protect you.
Brutal hanging to sever off the neck
was not crucial.
I wanted to know
who was afraid of whom?
Satish Verma, 22 april 2016
Truth Will Not Multiply
Space has all the silent approval,
truth will not multiply.
Another funeral takes place
in the barren field of lies.
Fire burns the life’s hopes,
while town mourns the death.
Sunshine bakes the eyes
but truth will not multiply.
Desireless peak of thoughts
sets out the smoke,
towards our homes,
trampling the shame, guilt and hurts.
We were still indulging in useless talk
but truth will not multiply.
Virtue has a unique impulse
a drone in the ears.
Fog was waiting for the sky.
The planet empties a bucket of sorrow.
I will favour the faceless name,
but truth will not multiply.
Satish Verma, 21 april 2016
To Be Nothing
I was not capable of
contradicting the quietness.
A silent emotion was insulting me.
Forgetting the self-denial
I went for choosing the impossible.
Am I sick of myself?
The agony overwhelms me with mystic relief.
Here and now I feel the human spirit
outsmarting the gifts of revenge
in the eyes of past.
No hope of breeze. It is hot inside,
the spirit burning. False peers
were scoring with debts of darkness.
Tiny ideas crowd the mind
flying straight through the mist of anguish
I elect to be nothing.
Satish Verma, 20 april 2016
Rape Of Fragrance
I will ask you no more.
An answer settles the question.
Let myriad questions remain in air.
Thirst is larger than the river.
Silence! Ghosts are walking.
You can hear footfalls of time,
past is peeping from the windows.
Dyslexic kids are not able to decipher,
the code of gifts, the sweet tongue.
Powerless hands are tied behind the back
and neck is broken with precision.
The rape of fragrance,
petals are curling up to storm,
flying homeless in sky without speech,
ceaselessly searching instead–ness.
Half-burnt bodies for feast, roasted dreams
for taste.
But for fire, a single tear drop
frozen on the cheeks of mercy.
Satish Verma, 19 april 2016
Peace Fot The Living People
A useless space between the sentences,
ghastly story does not end in black and white.
Again the heart cries.
I keep on knocking on the doors
and then return to blackness.
Sometimes people become insects.
Cockroaches, ants and spiders,
weaving their webs and hills,
crawling, creeping, clawing.
Flesh eaters. Pouncing upon hapless victims.
Depression. I am devastated.
Something churns in breast, dousing the spirit, lines and words.
Cannot sit quiet. Agoraphobia. Don’t want to talk
Somewhere a name crops up. Saint or beast.
Under the trees there is no shade. I walk barefoot.
Hungry dogs chasing the flies.
Humidity fills the eyes.
Silence of the night.
City has stopped running.
All the dead will speak now.
Not asking any revenge,
but peace for the living people.
Satish Verma, 18 april 2016
Temple Of Hope
Long night will start the pincer movement;
pyrexia is rising.
Something like an extraterrestrial hand
digs deep in the mind to open the tomb
to unravel the tragedy of nuts and bolts
which could not fix
the mutation of the hour of death.
Dark blinking lashes of soul
measures the cliffs of silence
and then pours the hot red
vermilion in parted wisdom of sky.
The clang of bones again penetrates
the liver. The green flaming jelly of
innocent bellies.
The hyacinth is choking the village pond
hiding the corpses of precious flowers
with green blood.
One day foundation of skeletons will build a
temple of hope.
Satish Verma, 17 april 2016
Length Of Time
Cell to cell a trapped apocalypse moves
breaking the taboo, deconstructing
the secret of body in chains
The myth explodes, offends the knowledge.
I know that I do not know myself.
Lacerating, ravishing the soil
the roots come out of air
to find the imprint of fruits.
I concede, I stop at the door of pain.
Hold me, when I tremble with stage fright.
My turn has come to speak the truth.
I have not made up my mind
to consume the light.
Garden takes a nap in the dark.
The boldness will face the dream
in length of time.
Satish Verma, 16 april 2016
The Condemned
Heart’s ache is getting worse everyday.
May be I go out in this brutal world
Of scuttling lies to seek the one
who left the body to trace the wound.
A red hibiscus enters my room from the window
and smiles at me.
Outside clumsy blasts are ripping apart
the tranquil day.
I wrench the emotions out of the poem
for the big mouthed kindness
which sprays the bullets.
Terror strikes suddenly on the swollen ankles
We do not know the cure.
No foreign hand will help,
No foreign face will smile.
I have to go for inward journey
My lips will kiss the condemned.
Satish Verma, 15 april 2016
Hymn
When glacier recedes,
Your eyes start flowing,
and by the swollen river
an island is swallowed up.
You swim from the lake to the shore
of grief to err again.
Water was your home,
water is your life.
Soft marble swells up in deep crevices
of brain, shaking the foundation of
thoughts, naked as it is.
The fog sleeps on the sea for eternity.
The wrath of sky will burn the skeletons
buried in sand.
Summer will bring the violence.
You cry for forgotten greens,
and kelp and sailing ships
full of hops.
When the hymn recedes,
your eyes start flowing.
Latest comments:
19 july 2025
violetta
Była piękna historia
19 july 2025
Ja też dryfuję między pracą a domem.
19 july 2025
Belamonte/Senograsta
to chodżmy na basen
19 july 2025
Helen Hunt chyba Wolnośc od bólu nie istnieje,
19 july 2025
zdjęciowa passa
19 july 2025
ajw
Wygląda tajemniczo..
19 july 2025
Super! I fajne kolorki :)
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.
19 july 2025
wiesiek
19 july 2025
ajw
18 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
8 july 2025
wiesiek