poetry

poetry
Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 11 may 2021

Just Meandering

In search of―
lotus flower,
you go in water.

*

The frog croaks,
sitting on
bowl-leaf.

*

A lily with
dark pink flowers
for Buddha.

*

For a lotus―
eater, nothing else
was important.


number of comments: 0 | rating: 0/0 | detail |


Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 10 may 2021

Hidden Paths

Autumn sets
deeper, after equinox. The
homesick moon comes close.

*

Was there any hope
beyond the darkness?
My hands are very dirty.

*
What was the maniac
pain of the sea?
No boat wants to sink.

*

Soundless was your
enemy in bush.
Why were you lamenting?


number of comments: 0 | rating: 0/0 | detail |


Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 9 may 2021

The Great Leap

Playing a foghorn
for self-esteem,
is an ego trip.

The white tiger
mauls a cow,
beyond the audio.

You are shrinking―
now at the hands of
unqualified arms.

No need of any
funeral finale. The bones
are as white as the moon.


number of comments: 0 | rating: 0/0 | detail |


RENATA

RENATA, 8 may 2021

przed bitwą

a oni wyją i wyją
z łuków mają ręce
cięciwy w palcach
groty mają w głowach

strach chwyta za gardło
aż oczy nie chcą patrzeć
usta chcą krzyczeć mocno tak
ogień z nieba pluje na świat

na rzekę na łąkę
na lasy pod strzechy
wir wir już zalewa
topi zdyszane strachem myszy


number of comments: 0 | rating: 0/0 | detail |


RENATA

RENATA, 8 may 2021

spragniona kobieta szuka faceta

on czyta te same książki
on kocha rośliny i kupuje kwiaty
opiekuje się mamą jest taki męski
i mówi zawsze dzień dobry sąsiadkom

głową muru nie przebijesz
choć bardzo chcesz na chama wręcz
poznać pana by spełniał marzenia
był lekiem na całe zło i chęć na sex

seksapil ja mam i w pełni kobiece usta
uda się kocham muzykę która wywołuje
śmiech delikatna wonna i dojrzała
tak eksponują swoje walory poznaje
siebie ciebie poszukuje co będzie wezmę

*******

nie chce starą panną być pilnować cnoty
pojawił się on nabrałam ochoty
taki naturalny przystojny i szczery
czas leci opatrzyły się ręce poszły w las maniery

hej niestety faceta mam i problem mam
miał być ratunkiem a to jest cham
tak mnie ciągnęło do jego ramion
teraz chętnie uciekłabym stamtąd


number of comments: 0 | rating: 0/0 | detail |


Paweł Szkołut

Paweł Szkołut, 8 may 2021

The Eroticism of Flowers I

Peering into the interior of the tulip's cup
is engaging in an intimate act -
insects arrive and drink up the nectar
pollen from the stamens
are falling upon the petals' crown
and the ovary post

peering into the interior of the flower
is enacting an intimate scene -
like looking deep into your eyes
like a penetration of your soul
to get to its bottom

and there is
the spring

2008


number of comments: 0 | rating: 0/0 | detail |


Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 8 may 2021

Eternal Verities

Let there be dark
in your life.
One day, you will
be able to see the light.

Wind would sleep in the
earthen lamp during day.
Come evening―
tears will light the wick.

Hordes of moth have
resumed their sorties. Any
cruise of moon was
impossible.

Not acceptable was hiring the womb
for manipulating the race. An
eagle dance, brings out the
savagery of man.


number of comments: 0 | rating: 0/0 | detail |


Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 7 may 2021

Many Blues

Night begins
the self-discovery
with green and cream pills.

A binary existence
you would love to
break the myth.

The wind in the sails,
you are going―
nowhere in darkness.

All colors of―
midnight moon,
were for you.

Time will meet―
you in different masks,
to find the truth.


number of comments: 0 | rating: 0/0 | detail |


Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 6 may 2021

Uncensored

Begins to reel,
the dusk,
down the street.

The grey moon waits,
solemnly, for the
music of earth to start.

There is enigma―
in dark. You see
the inside of a shut house.

Like the stone
eyes reading the heliograph
of shrunken gods.

Plunged into a gorge
your eyes, to find
the secret of a fall.


number of comments: 0 | rating: 0/0 | detail |


Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 5 may 2021

Thinking Off

The clouds hang on the strings.
I cannot dry my eyes.

Picking up the pine cones, on grass―
one by one, as the years went by.

How did I lose my home again?
Were there not footprints in snow?

The caladiums, you planted in
summer, had the crimsoned spots.

Like the kirmizi sun
dipping in lake one night.


number of comments: 0 | rating: 0/0 | detail |



10 - 30 - 100  

Terms of use | Privacy policy | Contact

Copyright © 2010 truml.com, by using this service you accept terms of use.


contact with us






Report this item

You have to be logged in to use this feature. please register