Najnowsze prace:

Poezja

	Satish Verma
	PROFIL O autorze Przyjaciele (3) Poezja (3973)

najnowsze najwyżej punktowane najczęściej komentowane

Satish Verma, 6 sierpnia 2012

INTEGRITY AT LARGE

Was that a non-devil effort
to hide the language
from cultural onslaughts?

The anger splits the opinion
about hurting goodness.
An isolated insult will spur

the words against the flight over
the answer, before the brush
with picketing fear, showing heroism.

I speak for unknown enemies
who wanted to alter the season
by planting horror on the street.

Satish Verma

liczba komentarzy: 0 | punkty: 0 | szczegóły

Satish Verma, 5 sierpnia 2012

THE PRESENCE

The hawk was landing.
Squinting at the urgent need
of slaughter and hope –

among the frightened hunger
of truth, of running feet
in the tall grass.

A world apart in
seeking the reality of
dying for earthly love.

I was not sure of
the manifesto of bricks and
stones falling on evergreen kisses.

Satish Verma

liczba komentarzy: 0 | punkty: 0 | szczegóły

Satish Verma, 4 sierpnia 2012

THE PRESENCE

liczba komentarzy: 0 | punkty: 1 | szczegóły

Satish Verma, 3 sierpnia 2012

REMINISCENCES

The sludge overtakes the sane
euphoria.A barefoot caravan
of cloud becomes edgy.

The hills have gone green.
The cascading falls
tend to mount on the scattered stones.

Suddenly I go berserk and start
hitting the stars moon by moon,
when night had betrayed the lover.

The collected grief of the lyrics
will answer for the blood
which hunger spread on the lips.

Satish Verma

liczba komentarzy: 0 | punkty: 0 | szczegóły

Satish Verma, 2 sierpnia 2012

NINTH MONTH

Goose-stepping on a soul song
you set the sky ablaze,
and I was not ready to welcome you.

I was hungry and I was thirsty
but could not find the road.
Back and forth, back and forth

walking with the toad. You can guess
my predicament when I said
that, I am, not I would

assult on the chaste fruit
of the moon, growing on the
tall tree of September.

Satish Verma

liczba komentarzy: 0 | punkty: 0 | szczegóły

Satish Verma, 1 sierpnia 2012

MOVING OFF

After a long time, I heard them again:
peacocks.
Bequeathing the pilgrim sun to palm trees;
poised to open sexuality.

Ah, the purple lips of a downing
cloud sets the sky on a chase
for a lost love of the blazing
moon in the starless night.

A recent pluck of a sharp grace folds
the lingerie, you open the fist to let
the explosion fly away.
This was the start of a crimson romance.

Satish Verma

liczba komentarzy: 0 | punkty: 0 | szczegóły

Satish Verma, 30 lipca 2012

STRANGE MORROW

On your face the shadow of a transparent wound
bungles the capricious climate
of the death of a thought which you could not
carry very far.

And that was all when I asked you some questions
about life. You started opening a beehive
of kills and subcutaneous pains.

How do you spell the happiness in beliefs and
starvation to achieve the resolution or incredible?
The mistrust between the cause and effect was
surfacing, though there was plenty

of solitude between the trees and cuckoo’s
calls.A crazy spell of silence in prayers
when we were very upset about our gods.

Satish Verma

liczba komentarzy: 0 | punkty: 0 | szczegóły

Satish Verma, 29 lipca 2012

ROAD WAR

Hoisting the bisexuality
on a figurine,
I crawl back to anxiety.

The primitive instinct
was taking over the stitches
on a snake.

What do you want from
a moon for the drooling
mouth of a seashell?

Braiding the breasts
against gravity,
earth wants to defy the duality.

Satish Verma

liczba komentarzy: 0 | punkty: 0 | szczegóły

Satish Verma, 28 lipca 2012

THE CANDLE BURNS

Not a single word added today
to my tinsel book. The brown eyes
were searching my smile.

You want to close the happening
of first moon and the fig.
My roses start a new dialect,

waiting on the clouds, almost
in rains, spreading the wetting
agent between the eyes.

The distance was the most crucial
thing, that does not end;
endlessly stretching.

Satish Verma

liczba komentarzy: 0 | punkty: 0 | szczegóły

Satish Verma, 27 lipca 2012

BLOOD DRAPED

It was coming up, the politics
like dirty sex
in tall Parthenium grass.

The panther was hiding on a steppingstone
watching the hot, field hockey
played with skulls of peers.

Mauled, the peach skin was
entertaining sunlight in
the metaphoric village.

Prisoners of false ceilings,
we sing the anthem with
the crowd of wolves.

Satish Verma