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Satish Verma, 7 september 2014
RESSURECTION
The wind writes a name on the clouds
and sun wipes out the letters.
This game continues daily.
coming into life after every death.
Exhausted I want to believe
and make up my mind to go
for a new birth.
The resentment has accumulated
all the life
against the futility of winning a race.
In the end you reach no where.
A void impossible to fill.
The years monitored, lay waste
something to die.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 6 september 2014
HEMLET BY CHOICE
I was not capable of
contradicting the quietness.
A silent emotion was insulting me.
Forgetting the self-denial
I went for choosing the impossible.
Am I sick of myself?
The agony overwhelms me with mystic relief.
Here and now I feel the human spirit
outsmarting the gifts of revenge
in the eyes of past.
No hope of breeze. It is hot inside,
the spirit burning. False peers
were scoring with debts of darkness.
Tiny ideas crowd the mind
flying straight through the mist of anguish
I elect to be nothing.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 5 september 2014
THE PENULTIMATE DILEMMA
I must not go beyond sunset
to discover the consciousness of night,
Standing alone on a cliff
I was ready to jump for salvation
atoning for guilt of survival.
My regret was time
and timeless suffering.
Where was the maturity of age?
Mind must go for the beloved ones
for a virginal touch of flawless blaze.
They should have come to join the prayer
not for me, but for the dying sun,
and white valley of fears.
Half my tongue sings for the shade
and half I cry mutely.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 4 september 2014
DELIVERANCE
Have not asked much,
still attached to you with subtelities,
I wanted freedom from you,
For removing stings from the flesh.
Anxiety was the darkest color
of floating buds on lake.
Sitting on the edge of panic,
I started counting the waves.
Mixed emotions always subtract a smile.
Just lonely, I went for the swim in rimless agony.
Have not heard much of you in ages.
Still memories crop up for a while,
I wanted nemesis from you.
Talking of blue and white clouds
love has many moods.
Devastated by a burning moon
I was wishing a watery burial.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 3 september 2014
NO, NO I'M NO OVID!
A useless space between the sentences,
ghastly story does not end in black and white.
Again the heart cries.
I keep on knocking on the doors
and then return to blackness.
Sometimes people become insects.
Cockroaches, ants and spiders,
weaving their webs and hills,
crawling, creeping, clawing.
Flesh eaters. Pouncing upon hapless victims.
Depression. I am devastated.
Something churns in breast, dousing the spirit, lines and words.
Cannot sit quiet. Agoraphobia. Don’t want to talk.
Somewhere a name crops up. Saint or beast.
Under the trees there is no shade. I walk barefoot.
Hungry dogs chasing the flies.
Humidity fills the eyes.
Silence of the night.
City has stopped running.
All the dead will speak now.
Not asking any revenge,
but peace for the living people.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 2 september 2014
BYANTIUM -2
Long night will start the pincer movement;
pyrexia is rising.
Something like an extraterrestrial hand
digs deep in the mind to open the tomb
to unravel the tragedy of nuts and bolts
which could not fix
the mutation of the hour of death.
Dark blinking lashes of soul
measures the cliffs of silence
and then pours the hot red
vermilion in parted wisdom of sky.
The clang of bones again penetrates
the liver. The green flaming jelly of
innocent bellies.
The hyacinth is choking the village pond
hiding the corpses of precious flowers
with green blood.
One day foundation of skeletons will build a
temple of hope.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 1 september 2014
KAHE RI NALINI TU KUMLAHNI...*
When glacier recedes,
Your eyes start flowing,
and by the swollen river
an island is swallowed up.
You swim from the lake to the shore
of grief to err again.
Water was your home,
water is your life.
Soft marble swells up in deep crevices
of brain, shaking the foundation of
thoughts, naked as it is.
The fog sleeps on the sea for eternity.
The wrath of sky will burn the skeletons
buried in sand.
Summer will bring the violence.
You cry for forgotton greens,
and kelp and sailing ships
full of hops.
When the hymn recedes,
your eyes start flowing.
* A line from one of Kabir’s famous poems which means ‘O lotus! why thou witherest thus...’
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 31 august 2014
A CIRCLE WITH AN OUTSIDECENTRE
After drawing a self-portrait,
I want you to believe
that I am not in it.
The style of rebellion cannot be judged by
blurbs only.
A chunk of refusal,
a narrow escape,
and thin veiled hysteria,
all go for a parody of exactness,
which had been really absent from our lives.
Can you find out
who is betraying whom?
where the tears are migrating?
And where the smiles have gone?
Instead of brutalizing,
I care for the tender torches
moving in the dark bush.
A precise definition is needed
for self-denial of molten lava
which moves like a river
but does not grab the heights.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 30 august 2014
THE PROTO...
Today the poem was still on the brink
of completion,
but never came to an end.
The whole day it was burning
in restless mind
and I looked down from a hopeless height.
No further movement of thoughts,
only dizziness.
I craved for a clear vision
between retinal haemorrhages.
Was it a hara-kiri?
I cannot move the pen.
Being half or complete
what was right?
There is no completeness,
only recalls of piecemeals.
Hiding behind excuses and myths,
failed to go for vivisection.
Or life failing to talk to death.
One day
I will pay for closing the door.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 29 august 2014
PHEONIX
Let us not cry for the fallen statue.
he is still alive and writing his own epitaph.
Eagles sitting on tall branches
will wait for the prey.
Why did he fake for a genius
running the lives of millions
toward the gates of heaven?
Do you think the quality of question marks will suffer
when answers remain incarcerated
in a system with flawed satisfaction?
I am going to die of shame
being only a bystander, in this bleak times.
Every day a murder of a blue chorus
is being announced.
Let me sing a new tugging anthem
sweet in my heart
harsh on my tongue.
Tonight a full moon will make me weightless
and I will be orbiting like an earth
around a burning name.
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
wiesiek
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