Latest items:
Satish Verma, 10 september 2015
Incontinence
Let me change the contours of life,
polluted mind-set.
Spider webs have
elective sites of emotions.
I want to open a new range,
to locate the corrupt moments.
Turn over your face,
let me find the scars.
The soaring pinnacle,
fatherless fame, were declining.
The rot was setting on
the fresco of the wall.
Aspiring for god-head
they have choked the fluiting.
Hands and eyes are cadaverous,
unmoving. Sun is burning very hot.
Not tomorrow,
today we have to bid farewell
to neutral day.
Life will not spare the casting.
Too much mist
has settled on the eyes,
raining madness on the road.
Month and years
are giving incontinence.
Satish Verma, 9 september 2015
Street Fighting
Timeless pain and,
painless time were two colors.
On the canvas,
I was spreading, to open the heart.
Non-being touching the vast emptiness.
Life on the moment, played the abstract music.
Was it the fear of blindness?
Indecipherable handwriting creates puzzles,
my laments cannot read.
Truth marches on my bones,
dead bodies do not count.
The interrupted meanings
are taking their tolls.
On the track,
blueprints are fluttering.
Whom do we complain?
Foliage was without fruits
and roots were dying.
And land smelled of hurts,
sweat and tears.
Unbroken oaths and
tools had disappeared.
And street fighting
had overwhelmed the crescent moon.
Satish Verma, 8 september 2015
Golden Sunset
Gently the invisible
strength overrides
penetrating every bone.
The desire was not seeking,
it was emitting a gloss.
Fierce truth was reverberating.
Only the mind was alert,
flesh was hissing.
An intense light
knived my sadness, death wish
it was a legend, I went into a process.
A quietness catching
all the voices of disharmony.
Word by word vocabulary
filtered in my heart.
Priests were prophesying doom.
Instant attention gave a passage,
uncontaminated, closer to the truth.
Gloom was glorified.
Scissors had done their job, few will remember the designs.
I should now think
of a golden sunset.
Satish Verma, 7 september 2015
Gift Of Love
Between the blue eyes,
wind smeared a hot kiss
on forehead of moon.
There were no half-brothers to watch.
Swarms of thoughts descended
in zero hour of night.
Sadness was beyond threshold
a crucial insult to the arrival of time.
Now I was not going anywhere
I was afraid of myself.
The centre was disappearing,
in the statements of truth.
Pleas are falling apart in
global freezing, of collective brain.
I start sifting through the leaves
a gift of love, my fruit.
Satish Verma, 6 september 2015
Return To Myself
Dumbly you come
to the brink of a precipice,
at the point of no return.
Moving, pivoting with
a huge perception.
Knowing that life was exacting,
you are alive,
alone with a conflict.
Your choosing was a miracle.
Seeking was not ending.
Death was an inadvertent mistake.
You lie down in terror.
Deep in the bones you know, you have to move.
There was no cloud above the eyes,
history was an aberration-
rags to riches.
You become yourself
when death defines a name
and I remember a sunset.
My shaking fingers
weave a drape of sorrow.
There was no patch of green
I return to myself.
Satish Verma, 1 september 2015
Erected In My Pain
Life gives you a sudden shock,
with ugly scars of mutilated truth.
Arriving becomes a failure,
a tilted faith.
Your eyes were blank but
you were seeing through
your hundred wounds,
spinning in the import.
Continuity of lies starts again.
From post to post
a sting was preoccupied,
fed on odium.
I had an indestructible desire
to set the throat free
from the obtrusive rust.
Love was not enough
a little bit burning on tongue was needed.
Polity has ruined
the green valleys
quietness cries in vain.
Fear in the mirror strikes.
I begin to run towards the sun
erected in my pain.
Times alter the image.
The cosmic bend is trapped.
Satish Verma, 31 august 2015
On Burning Coals
Loneliness of non-being and,
reality, fill up the vessel.
I search for the eloquence while,
emptiness will be my forte.
Countless words are crossing
like a promise in milk-white days
I gather sunlight through grass leaves.
Life had been full of shadows,
lengthening, penetrating
the tapestry of love.
The descent was steep.
Coming home I found
no humming words.
Sitting in dark
I wait for shooting stars.
Measuring the blood, drawn from our hurts
was a royal reward
for your fingers.
You are allowed to compare blood
with brown coffee.
Sand in our eyes,
we walked bare-foot
on burning coals.
Satish Verma, 30 august 2015
It Is Too Dark
Forgetting the ultimate name
of clean truth
the essence of time latched on to the dangerous arguments.
Something went wrong.
I watched the foot crumbling,
everything was moving towards dark.
I wiped the magnifying glass
to witness the hunger
of everyday life,
blue veins of the shriveled legs.
Sinking deep in smeared eyes,
a panic leaps.
Nothingness to nothingness,
I could not use any syntax.
Repeating same sentences,
you are lost in labyrinth stabbing the walls.
Sunset will send
the blurred sparrows to home.
Antiquity will become a burden.
I am restless, a candle must be lighted,
It is too dark.
Satish Verma, 29 august 2015
Burnt Taste
A cyan globe
rolling in the black sky.
I was visualizing
an earthset
on the horizon.
Lianas
threw a noose
around my neck.
Did I
start the fires?
My dissent
was of any relevance?
Who was standing
on the moon?
Self-centered was your vision
I was trying
to turn the tide.
So much bragging
could not go well with me.
The tongue had the burnt taste.
Satish Verma, 28 august 2015
Separated Our Lives
Shadows were talking,
we arrived nowhere.
Text was smaller than life.
Millennium hung on our eyes,
rattling the long distance calls.
Our house was ruined,
multiple windows
turned into walls and poems died.
Your face has become an empty vase.
Dismembered cast off
in the corner of the house.
A dreadful ruffled
body of the past glory.
I was nearly buried in quick sand.
Now I talk to trees, the carpeted clouds,
and move again.
My hands suffered
lifting the polarities.
Random tears disturbing the heart beats.
Knowledge was painful
and diminutive people spoiled my collections.
The stones, flowers
and wings separated our lives.
Latest comments:
27 july 2025
Jaga
Dla mnie trwa w każdym aspekcie. A deszcz i
27 july 2025
Wrona siwa :)
25 july 2025
sam53
bez początku bez końca...brzmi bardziej tajemniczo
25 july 2025
może w sierpniu będzie lato.... :)
25 july 2025
kiedyś to był błękit, teraz jakieś to niebo
25 july 2025
violetta
Piękny nastrój:)
25 july 2025
Ach:)
25 july 2025
AS
w życiu nie widziałem tak genialnej miniatury;
25 july 2025
Gdy z naturą w zgodzie/ płynie czas i deszcz
25 july 2025
Gdy z naturą w zgodzie/ płynie czas i deszcz
25 july 2025
Już po dwunastej...
24 july 2025
Weronika
Skończony, co się zowie.
27 july 2025
wiesiek
26 july 2025
wiesiek
21 july 2025
ajw
21 july 2025
wiesiek
19 july 2025
wiesiek
18 july 2025
wiesiek
15 july 2025
wiesiek
14 july 2025
jeśli tylko
14 july 2025
wiesiek
14 july 2025
Jaga