Satish Verma, 5 kwietnia 2018
Such were the times.
You wanted to become sane
after losing the mind.
*
A death trap─
looking in the rear mirror.
The first word you spoke.
*
The ugly turn
of the events. This November
a moon eclipse.
Satish Verma, 4 kwietnia 2018
The intrigues, the twists
unravel the woven threads
of the mystery. Traumatized
and dazed, I play─
dice with the unknown to
find out the truth.
Confronting the purpose
of existence,
you come out of the flesh
after flogging─
and start dancing
with bones.
Extremely poor,
you play the hand
and fail.
Elsewhere someone
climbs on the pole
and sets the house on fire.
Satish Verma, 3 kwietnia 2018
What was the
secret of the path?
A tree was climbing on a hill.
*
Temple festival.
I have come from faraway
to pick up the marigolds.
*
My clouds
will not reach your summit.
They are heavy with rains.
Satish Verma, 2 kwietnia 2018
Incubation was not
complete. The thirst of
thoughts will find a
convoluted shell─
wrapping up the kernel.
Throw a stone on the
sinner. This was on
me. I will accept the
rocks to open up─
a fountain.
There was a silver screen
for the lovers. You will
not regret for the raw
emotions. A sperm whale
in the sea will spew─
a streams of profanities.
Satish Verma, 1 kwietnia 2018
In the waning moon
you were talking
of fathoms.
*
The water
has countless images.
Do you need a boat?
*
The vampires.
Why you go to the ruins.
I am bleeding.
Satish Verma, 31 marca 2018
How age slips away
from your hands?
How deep you will
go in the cavernous
mind of time?
Why brother,
why, the healing started
to hurt you and you
did not want to
stitch the name?
No tattoo will tell your
address. You want to
go anonymously, leaving
the moon behind
the brown hills.
The shadows are─
lengthening. Time was up.
Lay down your arms
and walk away with
empty hands.
Satish Verma, 30 marca 2018
Time. Marches on;
tasting the blood of hikers,
who would not─
reach the summit.
*
Red clover.
I walk under the black
moon to light─
the fire.
*
Meet me
sometime, in the half way
house, I have forgotten
my name.
Satish Verma, 29 marca 2018
An empty chair in a
muffled day, starts
a self-import and
falters on steps.
You need the fear, to
strike back, when the
tracer distribution
returns with a ghost.
The discount will substract
from the truth. I will
find the zero at the
end of lies.
Will I concede to the
barter? Let me first taste
the bitterness of victory,
become drunk on your hate.
Satish Verma, 28 marca 2018
A rose.
Atonement for-
all the thorns.
*
I will gather─
all the poems. For anointing
your memory.
*
Where the sun
hides, I will paint a
field of marigolds.
Satish Verma, 27 marca 2018
Unable to conceive.
The theme had not arrived─
near the mouth.
It was agonizingly close,
Before and after the storm.
A dharma had failed.
Law of the land:
first a sprint,
then a strained voice.
You lend your voice to
a surrogate throat.
The audience roared.
Star by star, you walk
in dust. The search goes to
find the unknown, who takes
a big stride and leaves
gaint foot-prints
in dark.
Regulamin | Polityka prywatności | Kontakt
Copyright © 2010 truml.com, korzystanie z serwisu oznacza akceptację regulaminu.
14 października 2024
zgodnieYaro
14 października 2024
To ma być kaszka?Jaga
14 października 2024
Laranjasam53
14 października 2024
1410wiesiek
14 października 2024
Jesień - niby kolorowo,Eva T.
14 października 2024
112Marek Gajowniczek
14 października 2024
OgromBelamonte/Senograsta
13 października 2024
Jesień zaczyna się wierszemsam53
13 października 2024
W deszczu spadających ptakówArsis
13 października 2024
Lustrovioletta