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Satish Verma, 23 march 2015
HUNGRY ANGELS
Tonight I will not sleep
I will call you in my eyes.
My hands were trembling
when I opened the book.
Words you uttered long back
tumbled out ashen-faced.
I started burning inside.
Where did we take a wrong turn?
The oven had baked a burnt-out
face. They are altering genes.
Suddenly it is going to start
a riot among the gods,
a pure kill.
Frightened I move in circles around
the little black hole in the center.
Martians would throw the boys
to appease the hungry angels.
Satish Verma, 22 march 2015
I AM WALKING ON SHARP EDGES
Hold me tight, my friend,
I am going to sail in damnation.
Between devil and saint
I have lost my home.
A wooden ship is on fire
at the turbulent sea
and I am going to welcome you
on the starboard.
I would keep the funeral in waiting.
Flowering of the ashes has begun
in urn. Sitting in semicircle, you watch
the spilling. Bones meet mother earth.
Death creates the challenge.
Go for a tree, watch your silence,
we are going for a contradiction.
The thoughts are same, but not similar.
I am walking on sharp edges.
Satish Verma, 21 march 2015
I WILL GLOW MORE
A river was frozen in my chest, O god –
I choose a burning boat to reach you.
My planet has become a broken bridge.
Voiceless hymns are haunting me.
Standing in a remote village of words,
my poetry beside me.
I want to cross the thick woods.
The hairy legs of tarantula –
I am ready to meet them on my body.
A skylark ejects a lyric at my terrace,
I become a flame.
Pour honey, pour water
I will glow more. The sparks will stay hidden.
When the sky would be overcast and dark,
thousands of stars will come out.
Suddenly there will be light.
Satish Verma, 20 march 2015
COMING OUT OF SKIN
Banded I walk
on the dirt road,
when discreetly, your shadow falls behind me.
Melting the distance
a voice loses the sharp birthmark,
becomes perfectly an onlooker.
Where I was going?
Greed was splitting the fat.
An owl creaks.
I pick up some daisies to walk into a crypt.
New mind was some steps away.
Coming out of skin
nakedness, brings out the tears.
We have stopped speaking. Only whispers
are parting the blackness.
Satish Verma, 19 march 2015
I DO NOT DIE
Manipulating grief, dirty hands -
open the lid,
release imagos. Eyes are blank.
You unravel the last of roses.
Surface tension wavers. An imbecile
sky pours the eyes, nose and ears.
Courtyard fills again, morphed resurrection.
I am persona non grata
in my own home. The moon does not cry.
Mystical lights. Headstones not legible.
Lockjaw. Waiting for morning-glory.
Stars are blinking.
Still I am stupid, courting my failures.
Cushion of thorns, I am weary of heavens.
Me, this earth, I do not die.
Satish Verma, 18 march 2015
GOODBYE
He had only one vision now,
as he chained himself not to be set free.
He was afraid of living.
No, he did not want anything from world,
or god.
He was not him always. Somebody in him
was watching.
Any gratitude he did not want to expect.
Not obliged anybody.
Wanted to go, but stayed.
Sons and daughters, he loved them –
for not getting cash mentions from them.
Some debts he would never pay back.
It is time for a deep breath of relief.
Empty house, empty soul,
and mind full of hurts.
He wanted to say goodbye.
Satish Verma, 17 march 2015
CRIB OF SUN
He faked a letter to god
and slept whole night.
(Fallen in a creek from a moving train.)
Indeed, he saddled himself with luxury
of oblivion.
The success around him was most obstinate.
Pretending to condone the arthritis
of social limbs, he walked straight
to become what he would be,
a fakir among riches without fanfare. The
absolute renunciation, slapping the door –
shut, for blackness.
It was visible, the nakedness of brazen lies
falling like cottonwool around him. He touched
coral eyes of truth and wept, never to speak
again. Cosmos would split
for his journey to home.
This was meant for you, he said to himself.
Your own choosing without any regrets.
His fingers traced the figure of a mother
of the thin moon, who was assaulting
the crib of sun.
Satish Verma, 16 march 2015
I AM SMILE WITH TEARS
He felt very guilty
while defending himself. Being nothing
in the times, he became so dangerous
for himself that the buttons were lost for
patriarchal connectedness.
The faces had become the permanent masks.
Now what?
Flutes lie broken in bottom of the pond,
stones had committed suicide.
A window lets in darkness.
I love the pace of history walking on the back
of alligators. It does not die.
I am emptying the urn, again and again
to write poems on the flyleaves of life.
Pure pain. I am smile with tears. My
knees carrying the amputated leg. A big
throw on the trash. I am thirsty,
not hungry. My hands reach for a strip.
Satish Verma, 15 march 2015
ALLIGATORS WERE DYING
I always differed
for the sake of semblance.
Feathers did not agree.
You flew away for your sky.
Impatience had killed the defeat
my elixir, the baby sea in my eyes.
Genocide of the figs, unlearning
the sweetness of life.
Yet a white python was hungry.
A heart rendering feat to dig-out
a home after the earthquake.
Alligators were dying in midstream.
I was running after the desert.
Why bustards were disappearing?
Trees were hung upside down.
There was no suicidal note.
Satish Verma, 14 march 2015
A MYSTIC PARADOX
Not superficial,
real inside,
something was ruined.
Tonight I will walk out in dark
beyond me.
Creased,
under tyranny of love,
wanted to unwrite the script
in the stampede of sins.
Impeachment
throws up the shock syndrome.
No wish to swim back.
Drowning, clutching my truth.
A mystic paradox?
Million faces of yes or no.
Wrinkles are getting larger.
Latest comments:
1 august 2025
violetta
Mech bardzo powoli rośnie:)
1 august 2025
Życie pochłania. Piękny wiersz.
1 august 2025
sam53
grzyby porastają wszystko, mech to już wyższa
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
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
bez początku bez końca...brzmi bardziej tajemniczo
2 august 2025
wiesiek
2 august 2025
Jaga
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