Latest items:
Satish Verma, 26 april 2015
Another Name
When postponed, death had no meaning.
It was lying in ambush.
Journey was imperfect without
a termination.
Behind the dust was another desire.
Another thumb on the trigger
starts shooting through the bubble
of moon. Every bone springs
to jump for final galaxy
of hidden stars.
Striving was brutal. Being
was dying for life. Profits
of morality on sale. Fragrance
without house. A memory
now invites another name.
Daughter of next life
lives hundreds of years
in death. Becoming
becomes the fear!
Satish Verma, 25 april 2015
Green Eyes
Faith was not taking him
near the truth.
Staring at reason
his inner self became a burden
on the whispering road.
They were going to exhume
the body of the martyr
for finding the ethos of hope
invoking the afternoon sun
to guide them in dark.
So the blood had a terrible
celebration of alienation
generating the heat of hate
not for the proud mother
who was grieving.
Time will not forgive
for the murder of green eyes.
The masses are rising
like a turbulent sea
riding through the tears.
Satish Verma, 24 april 2015
Fountain
Revolting inwardly
the fountain chokes.
New year amputates
the fingers of a whole man.
History repeats a parallel.
He sets the house on fire.
Sky withdraws the light
till the queen of darkness sleeps
before the future unfolds.
Smell of burning flesh drifts.
This moment was for God
to wipe the sweat on frightened face.
Hair and bones hide in the urn
that was forgotten.
Death has mouthed a betrayal.
Satish Verma, 23 april 2015
Like A Firebird
Like a whiff of pungent smoke
morality hurts.
The inner song dies
in chorus of sharp tongues.
Anger beats the wall
causes no beginning,
no ending.
A naked shadow burns.
The voice on the edge of truth
jumps in the dust of lies
like a firebird
bathes in immortal grief.
For deliverance from the depravity,
one who calls you a name.
How I longed to invoke
a time outside the space!
Satish Verma, 22 april 2015
Circle Of Glory
Pain unites the victims.
Discreetly, afterword, was the same.
Only loser helped you to die instantly
for the millions of stars.
The shadow was a terrorist
on the terrace.
Wounds were flying on erected dais,
the circle of glory was complete.
Over the dead nurseries
sun was kneading the earth,
for a graying sky
to bear the night.
A shameful retreat
of the weaver, of faked skin,
when body was stained with orange bruises
inviting the moon.
Satish Verma, 21 april 2015
Bon Voyage
Absolute yes or no
makes you wish
not to understand philosophy
of semipermeable life.
Sort of, lies pass through,
truth is left behind.
The fingerprints don’t speak
the identity of runaway minutes.
Somewhere you fail miserably,
break the cushions
and lie on thorns
to feel the terror of time.
Where the birds have gone?
Trees have startled the sky.
The staircase is broken.
Bon voyage to blue eyes.
Satish Verma, 20 april 2015
Footfalls
It was in you,
the beast.
Reading your private thoughts:
tribal instinct-
to gather tools.
Dwindling belief.
You are left high and dry
after the deluge receded.
A big fire
erupted in your house
to burn you alive.
Footfalls of disquieting roar
breaks the empty silence.
So thin was the salty air,
it spewed the fire.
Death of the moment.
You sit down on the rocks
outside your body
and start counting
the winks.
Satish Verma, 19 april 2015
Foeticide
Ends did not meet, like beginnings,
fact was insulted by fiction:
the newborn stuns the God.
Drop by drop
life drips from ankles.
Desolation takes advantage,
forgets the path, becomes self-centered.
Dialect changes, to taste the foul
heritage,
cadaver breaks the glass jar.
Foeticide of a flute, overnight
the soft face becomes dark. Orange moon
floats like an empty boat.
Waves burn
for the sake of swollen lids of time.
The essence of lies weaves a theme
a skull rolls down on a slide
laughing like sin of omissions.
Night screams.
A hot sun glows from the window.
Satish Verma, 18 april 2015
Last Flowers
A hero demands affection, the heat
for a surrogate role
of a saviour of oppressed.
Deafness increases
towards the integrity of a failed man.
To become something after impotence
with implicit metaphysical rags
worn in chains of blind silence.
It was all, molesting the parting hour,
or nothing, obscuring the pressing hope.
The game continues to bluff the speechless
for casting a spell on innocent vision.
Essence and rose want to separate,
no sensual dive in the sea of
silken love with blackened hands.
The other forehead has a smear of blood.
My fingers move in tender wrongs, you
did not deserve this cold night. Nothing
will happen to the vase. I
am plucking the last flowers.
Satish Verma, 17 april 2015
EXPLOSION
Spitting the blood, he said,
every winter for few days –
he would feel outcast and there was
pain in the idea of pain, but he wanted to live
without a painkiller.
Sometimes he will singe his hands on a flame
to protect his dignity. The history of his
unrest remaining untold. Then he will go
out in rains of knowledge and soak himself
in mixed joy.
A lump in the throat hurts, when he
tries to decipher a dream to measure
the life. A liar knows the complete death
of a truth to assert his independent existence
in myth.
A deadly poison of the choosing,
your own microclimate, aggrandizement
of royal tradition, makes you popular in masses.
They surge to touch your gown, ripping
the explosion.
Latest comments:
31 july 2025
Bezka
Cudny klimat
31 july 2025
Ewa, aż zabrakło mi słów
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:)
31 july 2025
absynt
31 july 2025
absynt
30 july 2025
absynt
29 july 2025
wiesiek
28 july 2025
Jaga
28 july 2025
absynt
27 july 2025
wiesiek
26 july 2025
wiesiek
21 july 2025
ajw
21 july 2025
wiesiek