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Satish Verma, 12 december 2014
SICK TIMES
And how shall we trace the
trajectory of a lungless scream
coming out of a slit throat?
Time was overrun by gnostic
resentment in absolute mind.
The fury of a gathering food riot:
do you hear the memorial rising,
rising –
on bones of hunger, swollen eyelids?
Soon they will meet on the bellies.
The fumigation starts, of lies
a bactericidal, to wipe out the germs
in dumb minds. The prognosis failed,
life moves in a tunnel, absent
and present!
Satish Verma, 11 december 2014
BROODING
Me and my pride,
me and my hurts.
Who are you, which you are not,
a verbless statement of nirvana?
No pain
no asking, narcissism.
A stream of unbecoming.
Eyes wide open
jaws tightly shut,
sitting in a corner, brooding,
brooding.
Now what?
A stunning duplicity,
a surrogate god
was running an empire.
Precisely polygamous
on the name of a latter saint
annihilating the third image.
The future demands its past,
its mode of becoming endosperm
in a sleeping leaf.
Satish Verma, 10 december 2014
LAKESCAPE
After the rain wets the ground,
a damp, naked silence,
floats in air
on the wrong side of the moon.
A strange mist, like a post coital whiff
envelops you savagely.
The testa breaks.
A forest heaves beneath your nails.
History moves through the layers
of family. You become a forgotten saint,
an archaic reminder of half-solid
truth. Green mirrors reflect a fading sun.
Wasps are climbing on a presence,
for a kill. A lake drifts in the yes
to stun the departure. You breathe
death dreaming a blue flower.
Satish Verma, 9 december 2014
EVOLUTION
For cloning of small gods
you took out the kidneys, lungs
and stomach, from slain truth’s
body. My bête noire, the lies.
Do you smell the stink? You make
yourself, you are not your id.
The urge to take a flight was very strong.
Groins aching for the heroic jump.
Legs amputated, the tragedy, swims
like a fossil truth in the sea, under
the layers of centuries.
Man has not changed, cheated of the death.
Satish Verma, 8 december 2014
FREEDOM AT LAST
The tears have washed my sins.
Taming the dead,
I start a vivisection
of myths.
I take an impromptu walk,
go inside my weaker self,
abandon the pretention
and come face to face with the fear.
No portrait, no symbol,
no map was needed.
I was going to open a locked attic
to liberate the imprisoned past.
O colossus,
O my golden bird,
my sun baked grief has ripened
in ruins of desires. I am free.
Satish Verma, 7 december 2014
WHO WAS SEEKING THE LIGHT?
Your insistence to become
something, to overstay existence
was not fair.
On a row of white shrouds –
holding innocent beings,
death was walking barefoot, crying.
Between farewell and stupidity,
staccato, shooting questions to life.
What was the need for this achievement?
Fear was turning you against me,
to abandon the peace. Truth cannot be repeated
again and again. It becomes a lie.
No body knows how to bury
the deception. It is still dark.
Who was seeking the light?
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 6 december 2014
AGONY
Let me douse this flame
with tears.
My nightingale will sing no more.
Ringed by dragons,
I decide to tie knot with a tempest.
When the birds start dying
the frightened choir becomes dumb.
I wait for the butterfly effect:
the thought was deeper than pain.
Tension arises. I see the face
of a moon. Bound but free.
My security starts a guilt. It was immoral.
The forgetful, yellow bones of
a thin father, with a gift to fathom
the flute, takes hold of the wind.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 5 december 2014
GOLDEN THRONE
There was a belief in street sense
for an extended purpose
of fire-eating.
Shadow of past was condensing
into future.
The ascending serenity had pockmarks.
Meeting your assigned killer,
in a dark alley for forgetfulness;
earth was ready to disown you
and the warriors were waiting
for an ambush.
But you wanted to enter the no man’s land of understanding.
There was a suicide
from the edge of a rock. I am.
Eyes were swelled with tears,
washing the feet which were immersed in flowing blood.
They hunted for the bones
to built a golden throne.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 4 december 2014
DAY DREAMING
I was tired of reshuffling the stars
in silent night.
Will you come and stay with me
for a while? I will give you
my light years to reach the hurting valley.
Sit down beside me
and rest your head on my drooping shoulders.
Together we will cross the dark river
of doubts conversing with fireflies.
You are carrying my unborn children
in your deep thoughts.
Flesh, blood and bones
pain between the ribs
and arrhythmic throbs.
Small pebbles on the beach
we are dreaming an ocean in our eyes.
Waves are high and wind is strong.
We are ready to drink the blue sky.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 3 december 2014
DOLPHINS
Sometimes I will meet myself
in an unlikely spot
to tie the loose ends of fugitive life.
Run, run I used to tell
my blisters,
you are caught in a bushfire.
I will say, take hold of the moon
and start wiping the stains.
The antelopes, the trees, the rocks
will keep your footmarks alive.
What a crazy idea, I will think
to pretend to be happy.
Gods are sleeping,
vault is broken
and priest has become a thief.
A jab in my back, I am bleeding.
Why not a meaningless word,
a painless wound
would play like dolphins
in my tranquil sea?
Satish Verma
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...
4 august 2025
absynt
3 august 2025
wiesiek
3 august 2025
absynt
2 august 2025
Jaga
31 july 2025
absynt
31 july 2025
absynt
30 july 2025
absynt
28 july 2025
Jaga
28 july 2025
absynt
21 july 2025
ajw