poetry

poetry
Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 19 january 2017

Stunned

Confused and wary like a 
spermwhale, you are 
nosediving; - 
 
through the shadows 
of terrible pain 
ejecting ambergris. 
 
Who was getting 
the bribery 
to fix the belly button? 
 
This was not revolution. 
It was evolution- 
of a stinking city. 
 
The gods were sleeping 
on the lips of a pride. 
Nurses were preparing the bed. 
 
How far the sane voice 
will reach, to deliver 
the relics of a salted dynasty? 
 

 
Unbodied, how do I touch you 
groping? The message was not 
clear. How to kill oneself on stage? 
 
A beehive falls on 
your head. Are you going 
to scream? 
 
Entire town was going 
for a pilgrimage. The saint 
was preparing for a self-burial. 
 
A hundred thousand moons 
were placed on your crown. 
The sun was going to roll. 
 
Charred bodies 
were turning in graves. 
Who was becoming untouchable now? 
 
Give me a kiss of cobra. 
My bandaged life 
wants to sleep in peace. 
 

 
His severed legs were 
tucked under his head to serve as a pillow. 
He was half-eaten. 
 
Howling 
was silencing all the shames 
Woman, I am not coming home.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 18 january 2017

Green Circle

You are peeling me off 
like a crab. 
Time has sunk very low. 
 
For the hungry kids 
who was growing crab apples? 
 
Creating art, 
arriving between the pubes. 
 
A microfossil 
roosting within me. 
I could live without oxygen. 
 
Incandescent, 
the liquid wounds. 
I will not send any salvo.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 17 january 2017

Pleading

Mooneater, I am my poem: 
fantasy of words 
traveling through fog. 
 
When light sneaks in, 
would you like to weep 
with me? 
 
Dear death, 
I am not ready to 
close my chapter. 
 
You are you 
but I am not me - 
taking a flight in dark. 
 
Disintegrating, 
I am collecting the spiderwebs 
to catch the moon.


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POEWHIT

POEWHIT, 16 january 2017

TREASURE

Into the attic I creep.
Just for a tiny peek.
They won't ever know.
I'll go real slow.

A pirate trunk to find.
Jolly Roger, and that kind.
Slowly open to look.
It's empty but one book.

Soiled and old, yet it gleams.
First page open by seam.
Dear Diary, today I cry.
I met this nice guy.

from my poem book - DREAMS


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 16 january 2017

Flickering Dream

It was your 
integrity 
 
at the time of ubiquitous pain 
of separation, you want to move the home 
away from home 
 
coming 
to terms with the trauma 
your shadow was not following you 
 
playing dead 
nuzzling the earth, racing to fill 
the void, entering the truthlessness 
 
this world 
of violence, of mayhem, of self-betrayal, 
the flags are not able to cover the nudity


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 15 january 2017

Battle For Madness

I see it coming 
the end before the beginning. 
Of dawn. 
The midnight call. 
 
Impeachment was fragile. 
A satanic cult 
overwhelms the freedom 
of negation. 
 
Do yoy think we can 
move the tree of wisdom 
from the altar of ethics 
sending shots to the sky. 
 
From the grief of paradoxes 
Can you run away? One 
moment you exhibit the caked blood. 
Next moment it is dark. 
 

 
Standing on crossroad, 
do we end the walk 
and wait for rumbling 
surge of anarchy? 
 
The anguish is writ 
large on the tanned sun 
who was moving along with 
porcupines. 
 
The wild berries 
have colored the skull caps. 
Swarms of red ants 
are running behind the heels.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 14 january 2017

Sovereignty

Living 
someone's else death? 
Was that an explicit experiment? 
 
Starting with an Adonis 
to stitch 
the wounds of angels. 
 
An unlikely 
walk through the tumor 
of breast, where 
 
no milk ejects 
the ancestory. I hold 
the words without meaning. 
 
It was a tragic 
flow of history. 
The echo was searching a sky.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 13 january 2017

Smiling Buddha

A rapt moon was listening 
a tale of two murders. 
Across the caste, fingernails 
were digging in to give - 
 
a putsch to darkness, unhappened 
in vain. 
A word tears into the untouched 
pain and I bleed for the golden birds. 
 
Can you transcend an apparition 
alighting on impermanence? 
Time was brewing 
a revolution of untold jokes. 
 
Death moves in a circle 
to negotiate peace with unknown. 
Skies were indifferent bidding 
farewell to cracks of dawn.


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Joe Breunig

Joe Breunig, 12 january 2017

Poem: Pain and Disappointment

Your pain and disappointment
should never be a hindrance
from accomplishing the plan
and purpose God has for you.
Isn’t our Life… a sacrament,

meant to be divinely poured
out, to honor our Creator?
As His children, we receive
His instruction and veracity,
as we carry our holy sword

and Hope that keeps us humble.
Discern the contrast to pain
and disappointment; find God’s
Joy, Mercy and His acceptance
without the need… to grumble.
 
 
 
Author notes
 
Inspired by:
1 Thes 5:18

Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ

By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2017, All rights reserved.
 


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Joe Breunig

Joe Breunig, 12 january 2017

Poem: Poetic Elegance

When will people observe,
the inner, poetic elegance…
of Christ Jesus in my life?

Does everyday nonsense of
my human routine, disguise
Him, while promoting strife?

Striving for self-control,
under an atmosphere of peace,
my spirit is subtly stirred

to honor my Lord; woven into
my life is His fabric of Truth,
that’s sustained by The Word.

Though I’m utterly imperfect,
my brokenness allows His Spirit
to quietly glide around me-

and touch the lives of those,
who seek to arise above the…
constraints of their humanity.
 
 
 
Author notes
 
Inspired by:
Gal 2:20

Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ

By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2016, All rights reserved.


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