poetry

poetry
Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 20 may 2018

Waiting To Blink

Eating circles in the sky 
I ask you to step outside 
the space. It was time! 
 
I will alter the succession 
of flesh to spirit. 
Sky was overcast, when 
mercury was falling. 
 
The thread breaks. Your 
theory falls without wings. 
Chandeliers chase the─ 
shadows on the walls. 
 
You start collecting the 
tomorrow and the morrows. 
There were no more yester- 
days. Ashes will stay in urns. 
 
The grass remains wet with dew!


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 19 may 2018

Colloquy

Will you wait for me 
till the moon parts the clouds 
and the lake looks serene? 
 
A reticent encounter; 
I want to speak through─ 
silence. A shadow play will do. 
 
Mystic nights weave─ 
a conspiracy. The insects 
hover like words. 
 
A lamp? No I will 
burn my bridges to illuminate 
the river. 
 
Between the math─ 
and a story lies 
the bloody corpse.


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Leszek Czerwosz

Leszek Czerwosz, 18 may 2018

Walentyna

zabiera mnie czasem w kosmos.
Rakietą do planet,
ku słońcu lecimy,
aż się roztopi wstydu maska.

W obiektywie,
w pośpiechu,
w kabinie zawsze za ciasnej,
cały się spalam.

Takie życie warte jest wspomnień.
 
 


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Leszek Czerwosz

Leszek Czerwosz, 18 may 2018

złote liście

jakże miło szeleszczą
gdy idziemy w nieznane
rozganiane wiatrem
popychane butami
 
jak szybko ulatują nam teraz
złote myśli
niepotrzebne
niepotrzebnym


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 18 may 2018

Along The Dots

What would you seek 
from the collection─ 
of lyrics? 
It is getting dark. 
 
Dismantling the notes, 
I heard, when tears 
were sitting dead in─ 
the crying eyes. 
 
Life reeks with the violence, 
from inside. You wanted 
one more religion to 
atone for the stink. 
 
But the signs will not 
convey. I become the war, 
the missile to destroy 
my own kingdom.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 17 may 2018

One Cold Morning

After a─ 
good shower, moon was 
braiding the clouds. 
 

 
Dawn, December. 
Recently washed trees getting ready 
to drink the sun. 
 

 
The dew drips. 
I collect the elixir 
to die again.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 16 may 2018

Boudaries

By genetic accident─ 
I fall in your way. 
A city sleeps between the arms. 
 
Will you give me 
a nickel of memory? 
I have lost my home. 
 
What do I do 
with the moon? The night 
has called for the sun. 
 
Making a nest for 
the sparrows. Want to 
hear the domestic voices. 
 
Here, the dreams 
go. I am selling the 
family silver.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 14 may 2018

The Closed Window

When─ 
you were taking lovers, 
a tunnel collapsed. 
 
 

 
The vision 
rolls back. The moon 
releases the dark secrets. 
 

 
A collaborator 
gives in. The street spreads 
the names.


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louis gander

louis gander, 12 may 2018

Mother

If a picture's worth a thousand words,
each word, a pound of letters -
then mother tops the sunsets
and pounds of gold from debtors.
 
Mere words describe so many things,
each one beside another -
and words explain those many things
but can't describe my mother.
 
A million smiles can't match her worth.
She carries loving scars.
Her gifts surpass bright rainbows' arcs.
Her worth exceeds the stars.
 
My mother's very special and
the only one I'll get -
and I'm the one she could afford.
I love her quite a bit.
 
So what explains my mother now?
What in my vast report?
And what describes my mother when
my many words fall short?
 
We shared so many memories,
our hearts shared many years -
so what describes my mother is -
the love within my tears...
 
©2008 louis gander


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louis gander

louis gander, 12 may 2018

Rose-petal Mother

The morning dew settles
like tears on rose petals.
They cry out for time to return -
and beckon lost seasons
of God-given reasons
as sad notes on my guitar yearn.
 
You're queen of the givers.
It brings to me shivers
that I was so selfishly made.
Your name defines 'humble'
as my words now crumble
on flowers that I now invade.
 
Your hands were like Heaven,
unselfishly given,
beyond just the people you knew -
from city to country,
from wealthy to hungry -
and all of the rest of us too.
 
As butterflies flutter,
I still try to utter
some truth of your beautiful love.
But now, it is just us -
and words don't bring justice
as sunlight spills down from above.
 
Those simple deflections
of sunlight's reflections
now glimmer like diamonds at play -
in memories briefly
that I see routinely
as if they were just yesterday.
 
I am not deserving
of all I'm observing
in memories coming to mind -
surrounded by perfume
with roses in full bloom
recalling that you were most kind.
 
I'll always remember
that freezing December
when I erred and brought you to tears.
When you found me straying,
for me, you were praying -
and over the many long years.
 
Some mothers are brand new,
but none can compare to
my rose-petal mother, that's true.
While laughter was looming,
our smiles were blooming.
There's none other better than you.
 
I do so adore you -
shall always continue.
I'd never trade you for another.
Up deep from the earth-plow,
what words can I sing now?
I love you, my rose-petal mother.
 
Alive still, your caring,
through rose petal sharing.
So many, I can't see them all.
Afloat on the breezes,
each rose petal eases
the pain of the weak as they fall.
 
Your petals continue
to live on without you.
They float around ever so free.
Like soft downy feather,
I don't wonder whether
some petals will fall upon me.
 
It's not at all easy
to sing thoughts so deeply
when sung with my dusty guitar.
I find I've distorted
all good you're recorded.
My rose-petal mother, you are.
 
And it's not by my choice
I miss hearing your voice,
so moistness now covers my eyes.
With fingers still strumming
I hear myself humming
while words get choked up in my cries.
 
With eyes very blurry
I'm now in no hurry
to vacate this most sacred place.
I can't be more lonely.
I wish I could only
receive one more loving embrace.
 
I love you so deeply
that when I am sleepy
see rose petals filling the sky.
My rose-petal mother,
my rose-petal mother,
I'll see you in Heaven...  Bye bye.
 
©2017 louis gander


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