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Satish Verma, 9 february 2015
A GREEN PRIDE HAS NO AMBITION NOW
Walk with me, till moon rises
on the griefs of the dark,
and the tongue tastes the pain of centuries.
On the erected dome
when the golden leaves start a flame
which throws up an image of a prophet.
My nightingale was giving a call
of a very sad tune, on the death of peacocks -
but for the poisoned feed, they were dancing.
A green pride has no ambition now,
roses were wilting.
Fever was rising in the roots.
Do not give it to me, my award.
Could I have shut up like a fame
when my house was being ransacked?
Satish Verma, 8 february 2015
FROM DUSK TO DUSK
The dazzling star
went through me.
I was undemanding
from dusk to dusk
hurting myself, not anybody.
Time to meet my twin,
to set he black on orange.
My guilt, my fear, my foreboding.
Let go off, my sap in the twigs,
fruits were coming down.
Under the guise of innocence
eruptiness entered into non-thought.
One by one snakes unrolled
with black eyes, under the succulent breasts,
the black poison clapping the pink lips.
The dirt was spreading
on the hands of unborn children.
Their eyes searching the seeds.
On dark beads of mother.
Father had been killed in a cave.
Satish Verma, 7 february 2015
XULON
Small things were
witness to genes
of freak mutation.
Tooth in eye
becoming boat in blindness.
Witch hazel
fails to stop leakage.
Thumb with beads of lymph
stung high in stillness,
wants to peel off
the concept of injury.
A brace
stops the smile.
Blue-chips have nothing to offer.
A king had hemophilia.
Timbers drip the blood
from heartwood
dropp by drop.
Satish Verma, 4 february 2015
FROM A DOT
One final leap
from high solitude
into city of dusk,
takes you to presence
of charred remains
of a fallen god.
A housewife moves in the kitchen
to prepare a farewell dinner
for the encounter of fatal descent.
A paranormal parting
to comeback to body of truth,
as you pick up your words.
Space odyssey in eyes,
palms folding,
to receive the punishment.
No complaints, no grieving
conclusion of foregone stopping.
A line will start from a dot.
Satish Verma, 2 february 2015
EACH THORN WAS CRYING
Sometimes I will interplay
the secrets:
faded rose in a book,
a distant star spelling out
your name.
When I go, will you come
to my home?
Hold my eyes wide open
and become my iris?
I wanted to see the innocence of a sin.
Black stone on a white belly
petrifies the womb.
Maniacs were dancing on the petals
of marigolds.
A mauve revenge
Petit mal holds the sanity
of defeat.
Pheromones will decide the gender
of a flat chested angel.
Each thorn was crying.
Satish Verma, 1 february 2015
DO NOT THROW DUST ON THE GRAVES
Your gifts, I do not want to keep.
Shapeless doves on the grass,
were ready to take a nascent flight.
My small hands prepare a daisy meal.
Dahlias will bloom when the sun climbs.
I pass the door, that moves like a
stranger, between the people,
looking out for black roses.
One by one the tribes are changing
the colors of flags.
Conversion into sleepless towers
watching the whistles blowing.
Do not throw dust on the graves
in the valley of golden stairs.
The voices are growing louder
after trampeling on the bones.
Satish Verma, 30 january 2015
THE ECHO REACHES THE WHOLE SKY
Wages
of alienation
were increasing.
We were afraid
of reflections.
Shifting
of landscapes
will hurt the river.
I was blinded
by blues.
Relationship
becomes a speech
impediment,
bonds start
breaking.
I wanted
to call your name –
in solitude.
The echo
reaches the whole sky.
Satish Verma, 29 january 2015
I AM BURNING MY BRIDGES
To search you
I am burning my wheels.
Put your hands
on my shoulders
for opening the book.
To read the message
between the words.
When the time comes
I want you
to smear my ashes
on the stones of footpath.
I want them
to walk on me
and dissolve their steps.
Stop looking
at me.
To reach you
I am burning my bridges.
Satish Verma, 28 january 2015
DEATH WAS VERY GENIAL
In the service of flesh
new vision was perfecting a cult;
silence was going home.
It was not there
freedom of defense for bread, but
I must pay the price of hunger.
The oblique afterthought
compelled by nocturnal infidelity
picks up the black threads,
minute by minute.
Death was very genial.
Comes silently behind the cacti -
across the intelligent green.
One has to pay for touching greatness.
The thoughts will never go
from the unwinking eyes.
I was listening to the footsteps.
Satish Verma, 27 january 2015
ACTUALIS
There was a strange carnality
in flowing robes,
a waiver penetrates
in incorporeal ellipse.
I must speak of him in his absence
combating for the actuality.
Knowing lust manifolds,
yields a prayer,
primrose opens the eyes.
The knowledge liberating -
you cross the inlets.
Anxiety peels off your mind.
An obnoxious presence of unbeings,
the weeds, the vocal generation
of priests, are anything but art.
The body blooms, in suicidal note.
Birds shriek, before the moon climbs
on the dark trees. I let go the orange,
only the white spreads.
Latest comments:
3 august 2025
sam53
podoba mi się ujęcie... można byłoby bardziej
3 august 2025
podoba mi się ten biskupi kolor :)
3 august 2025
dziękuję za miłą lekturę :)))
2 august 2025
violetta
Ładne
2 august 2025
Jakie piękne
2 august 2025
Weronika
Jednia.
1 august 2025
Mech bardzo powoli rośnie:)
1 august 2025
Życie pochłania. Piękny wiersz.
1 august 2025
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...
3 august 2025
wiesiek
3 august 2025
absynt
3 august 2025
absynt
3 august 2025
absynt
3 august 2025
absynt
3 august 2025
absynt
2 august 2025
wiesiek
2 august 2025
Jaga
31 july 2025
absynt
31 july 2025
absynt