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Satish Verma, 17 may 2015
Recall
The men were pulled out
from homes,
died on road,
burned to bones and ashes.
At the behest of tall,
unforgiving state.
Compulsion of armchair and mansion
distorts, the regrets
of centuries.
The stones,
blameless flowers,
spurting blood
do not recall any God.
Satish Verma, 16 may 2015
Becoming Nobody
In search of a missing clock
he went to the city of a fake encounter.
It was irrelevant to find
the lost tunnel.
There was no street without a rustle.
The sap of tall trees had bloomed
into jaws of death.
He stepped on a land mine
and blew himself
to reach the truth.
And his gift was an
apostate of me.
The tenth day moon will
celebrate my becoming nobody.
The rivals will have
a field day
dancing on my shroud.
Satish Verma, 15 may 2015
Give Me
They were burned alive.
Most cherished to me,
betraying the functionality of a system,
interstitial asphyxiation took place.
In the garb of a garlanded saint
a gun booms.
The death is rolled from tongue to tongue.
flying limbs get strung on trees.
A faith was in flames,
somebody leapt from the inferno
with folded hands, to melt into a stone
reaching nowhere.
Non-particles were becoming visible
parting the sky.
Nostalgia was possessed with belief of non-believers,
a thought without a thinker.
I am taking liberty, O God
give me something to live!
Satish Verma, 14 may 2015
Condemned
For human face of death
umbilical cord need not
extend. The darkness takes care of
unblemished ghost of sun.
Intergalactic scan remains unseared,
trench warfare continues unabashedly.
Between brothers, the greed calls
for incendiary attacks, for total annihilation.
To achieve the illusion, the blurred statement
feeds the imagination. Deaddiction starts
a race. Deafness of the tunnel. The black
knees crawling on coals.
No night was safe from the condemned suicide.
The creator had the absurd designs.
Why not now the confessional stick,
to beat the darkness? Memory of light
becoming stronger. Give me your hand
to reach the ceremonial peak.
Satish Verma, 12 may 2015
Blindfolded
A dented version of an old grudge,
blackened lips with an elite song,
your relentless search ends in
a terminal shock, nursing a green wound.
That anguish was still there, and the wild anger
sprawled on hidden fractures, false teeth,
and twisted spy glasses. Sky falling silent
in terrible gloom of centuries.
Blindfolded we are led for a ceremony
of total dedication, drinking opiates
from the cupped hands of a silver god,
with alien innocence and silent submission.
I stare at the changing colors of world
shifting like summer dunes,
dancing on the graves, in dripping
dew of midnight moon, salt of tears.
Satish Verma, 11 may 2015
City Of Stones
Anointment of any prefix was hurting
I started shedding the names.
To fill the void, dialogues were not sufficient.
So many of thorns, without seeing,
in flesh, reading the closed mind, to
reach the inner blue.
After dark bloody spills on the rose petals,
you stagger on white tendons;
cracking the fright, peeling off the truth.
How nervous was the death to tread in.
In the pit, no sound, no hiding.
Deep down was hung a turmoil.
calling a name, when night was sad
and lightning was lifting the clouds.
The city of stones in me, the solar system
the galaxies, were stumbling out in defeat.
Satish Verma, 10 may 2015
Fairy Rings
Immensity of deviation was exploding.
Abruptly my frail frame collapsed.
I did not know the answers. I was lost
in my inner sanctum, full of hollow escapes.
The ugly ‘ism’ was devastating. Not in,
not out. I was blowing up in a burnt out moon,
pure as sin, prodding, writhing,
stuck in tar, melting in hot sun.
As a projection of inner violence, a psychopath
shoots an innocent on the temple, forsaken, revengeful.
No qualms for grazing the godhood,
the voice of sanity remains sitting on a toad stool.
The fairy rings are growing larger and larger,
sanaria shrinking. Epileptic paranoia overpowering
outside, I am sick, but relentless, the shadow disappears
in valley, down the memory. I let go the blurred spirit,
in a fit of rage, standing alone.
Satish Verma, 9 may 2015
Now You Know
You are not with yourself today.
Conversation was stopped, from cloud to cloud.
Now you know what you did not want to know.
No longer the pathless destiny,
comes near you, you go towards the
bushes to collect the ash, the burnt out
remains of a theme, a design, a horizon.
In memory of books, which are not read
by anyone now. Pages lay wounded. Black
stones trying to hear the sounds of dawn.
The tremors were increasing in the swampland.
The wolves were in howling rage. A daring
gift of death, tormenting the spirit, human
flesh, you watch through the twilight,
through the terror of betrayal. Each tear drop
sacrifices the eternity.
Satish Verma, 8 may 2015
Lies
Face to face, I was bewildered.
What was happening to the garden?
My body left in absent seizure;
words had destroyed a beautiful poem.
I was listening without blinking
like a blue moon
or the serene lake.
The interlocking in no-man’s-land
under a red rain,
somebody puts a hand on my shoulder
to bring out the sorrow,
the salt of my tears, sandscapes
of smooth bones.
Becoming something was music to ears
twisting the gaps.
Seeds of the brain, nude as the beach stones,
round and snug, somebody wakes the water
in the breast, kicking up the turmoil
I was nobody, nobody.
It was all lies.
Satish Verma, 7 may 2015
Fate Of Man
The roses you bring every morning
become an interval between hope and ending.
Thinking about it, impulsively I
contradict God against humanity.
Little murder here and there
of nihilism, sweet smell of faith,
taking any road to reach the climax,
to die for the zeroism.
An outsider becomes the altered hero,
you would find the unimaginable,
lamenting and bleeding, blunting
the eagerness, the spark.
We will inherit the crowned homes,
the brief interlude between crime and award.
The mud, the water, the slugs
will decide the fate of man.
Latest comments:
30 july 2025
AS
mistrzostwo...
30 july 2025
przywiera do kości ten Wiersz...
30 july 2025
violetta
Bardzo fajne
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
Piękny nastrój:)
25 july 2025
Ach:)
25 july 2025
w życiu nie widziałem tak genialnej miniatury;
30 july 2025
wiesiek
30 july 2025
absynt
30 july 2025
absynt
30 july 2025
absynt
30 july 2025
absynt
30 july 2025
absynt
29 july 2025
wiesiek
28 july 2025
Jaga
28 july 2025
wiesiek
28 july 2025
absynt