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Satish Verma, 26 july 2015
Unlearning
Everybody was in hurry to unpack
the sins and reshuffle the names
of burns, by taking a holy dip
in mauve lake. I wanted to defang them.
Acid attack had the inversion effect
on the expressions.
It was an obscene vision
unrolling the infant
for bleeding an opponent. The procession
moved on. Details never came out.
Only the flaming bodies, loud thuds
and the screaming virgins.
This was unlucky for the hutments,
fragile poles crumbled down, unspeakable
emptiness on the faces. Something has
to be unlearnt. Too much pain of
the knowledge. Ectopic pregnancy?
Satish Verma, 25 july 2015
Celebrating My Defeat
Skylit my bright atrium,
pumps the future.
Which becomes the today
righting the wrongs.
I want to go back
to my ancient furrows,
hibernate and sleep.
Let the life bloom on dead words.
In vitro a tiny face smiles.
Pink petalled
a crooked moon goes up in the sky.
Tangled thoughts resume
the search perceiving
the depth of the subway.
The waves splash on the rocks madly.
Celebrating my defeat,
I burn my books.
Cannot follow any path.
Lonely I trace
my truth in sands.
Wind communicates the disaster.
Still my hands
break the branches,
snap the thorns, bleeding.
Satish Verma, 24 july 2015
Windows Are Not Supporting
In the culture of self, and wilting idol
who was going to interpret the truth?
To resolve the inner conflicts
of an ailing mind?
I tell no one my validity,
my loss, and my sudden realization,
of a dying aura.
Give me a poem, a childhood, a dream
I wanted to live,
without maligning a mirror.
Without a cold-blooded
murder of truths.
Life was becoming a waiting in blackness for an
audience with god.
A thought sits whole life
on a ruined model of a truth,
trying to get freedom from the
celebrated events of greed and hate.
Windows are not supporting the light.
Time for the greens
to make a decision.
Satish Verma, 22 july 2015
From Death To Death
What do I do with the words?
They hurt, they flourish without thoughts,
destroying the civilities.
The sky cannot hold the conflict.
The strange friction
of the image blurs the colors.
Love has become a cauldron.
A tough question
tries to penetrate in my skin.
I come out of my body,
peeling off the conflicts
from the timeless silence.
The voices of doom hang on the trees.
Somewhere the tears
turn into watermark.
Not afraid of afterlife
I am ready
from death to death.
Another autumn
will take away all my greens,
water & grace.
But primordial smile
has a history of matching a face,
with the dead.
Satish Verma, 21 july 2015
Unfog The Sky
A stand-off between grass and moon
marginalized the perfume of night.
I was standing to read the graffiti
written by light and shade.
The planted kiss, the embrace, the trembling
legs have bricked in the trapped saint.
Where were the stars leading you
for the journey to the end of the bruises?
Some coarse absence of winged thoughts
had continued presence. It was blankness
without emotion, without movement. Can
you think without the past, without the future?
Step-by-step the malice, the lie within
the lie unfolds. Gives a deliberate shock
of self knowledge. I count the bonfires on
the hills. Coming up to unfog the sky.
Satish Verma, 20 july 2015
A Hybrid Of Man
Confessional truth
is not my aggressive ego,
it is my fault.
The resolution of my conflicts with time,
the smell of the broken limbs,
my head in hoisted fever,
my eyes searching for a cloud.
The ultimate otherness,
of an idea baffles me.
Charity creates the misery,
you seek a window,
not the sky.
Looking for the gods,
enjoying the sweet depression,
of a pseudo-hurt.
I wanted the sanctity of a tree,
full of fragrant bloom.
To break the spell of hot arguments,
the fire of ideals,
projects self worship.
Town meets casually to select
a hybrid of man,
and a beast.
Satish Verma, 18 july 2015
Fatigue Of Wasted Years
The wheels find,
the track on my body,
why do I shiver & tremble?
The night gives me the depth,
a grim reminder of realism.
The consortium of thorns,
the splinters float in my eyes.
The dignified seizure,
takes hold of your body
your mind writhes,
under the surface.
You hold head in agony.
Waking is more painful.
Is it worth that?
The biography celebrates,
the death of a god.
The negative virtue and,
upright truth clash,
in midst of worst weather.
The red tongue gives,
the hot sermons.
Fatigue of wasted years,
weigh heavily on my arms.
Satish Verma, 17 july 2015
I Was Always Angry
Whole world hides
in your liquid eyes,
I need to return to my consciousness,
to change my verse.
The dry air has wiped out the beautiful words
sitting on the edge, of a meaning
I write a new song.
Discovering your forgotten self,
was a pain,
I always avoided.
Years touched me softly,
on the temples in vain.
Dumb I was with grief, threading a pile of memories,
to know my other self.
Somewhere a god smiles on me.
God of my mud & water,
wide open like a father,
who never died.
The moon slaughters my clouds.
I was always angry,
with my odd appearance.
Satish Verma, 15 july 2015
Featureless And White
This night of the long vigil
has betrayed my soul.
Columns of smoke arise
from the landscape of shrines.
There is no need now,
to sing the praise of oblique wars.
Truth has made
a big dent in my heart.
The tears of the bronze statue won’t stop,
they are mixed with blood.
Its pain for pain hurts the flesh.
Orphaned kids move in a circle,
their parched lips in silent prayer.
Remains of bread crumbs strewn on road.
The stench rises from the trash.
A face swims,
of our demolished culture.
Even the vultures are gone.
The dead and living start talking.
Tainted blood flows in dead veins.
Featureless & white.
Satish Verma, 13 july 2015
Nowhere In Sight
I will cross the twilight zone
to meet you in zero space
negating the fear.
The mauled city
strikes the dumb sky
in unilateral war.
Coming from a bleeding torso
a scream agitates the dolls
playing with pebbles.
Flaming death will not leave footprints
Violence was not coming to stop.
It had many faces.
The very existence had no meaning.
Darkness, was coming down the hills.
Can you bring some flowers?
Sun was nowhere in sight?
Latest comments:
28 july 2025
Łukasz Radwaniak
Temat stary, ale jary i dorze potraktowany:)
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...
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