Latest items:
poetry
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, 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, 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, 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, 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, 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, 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, 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, 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, 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 |
Satish Verma, 4 may 2021
What You Were
Cessation had no direct threats.
You had stopped thinking.
A shadowy future starts hating
you and your financial motives.
The September light falls on leaves
ready to go, yellow-brown-red.
You are still warm, still receptive
of the hollyhocks to welcome you.
A guiltless flight with singing birds―
homing to their mating abodes.
You want to arrive
without qualms, without fainting.
number of comments: 0 | rating: 0/1 | detail |
Satish Verma, 3 may 2021
Unending Rope
How will you be defining
a war, when you
meet without machetes?
Between real and fiction
lies a deficient bridge.
We will go for a walk to find―
the weak spots.
A dead city moves in its
entirety. You prepare yourself
to read the tea leaves.
The dregs were in power.
Why you were becoming schizophrenic?
Do not blow at the dead sparks.
How long the shadow now
you want to throw?
number of comments: 0 | rating: 0/0 | detail |
RENATA, 2 may 2021
zdziwienie ma gorzki smak
kochałem Cię mocno tak
bez Ciebie mój nie istniał świat
a potem wspólne dzieci i dom
szczęście u naszych stóp dyndało
a może to -fatamorgana
od rana do rana
w mojej głowie jest dobrze
wyruszyłaś raz w delegację
do miasta A jak zawsze
ja na powrót Twój czekałem z kolacją
winem dziećmi i psem i wiem
spóżniłaś się lecz strach oczy wielkie ma
a może to -fatamorgana
A tam daleko gdzieś w mieście B
pędząc od kochanka rozbiłaś się
pijany tir drogę blokował
teraz Ty w śpiączce mnie łeb rozbolał
drżę w szoku czekając na przebudzenie twe
wybaczyć chce serce me
nie dzieje się nic bez przyczyny
przyznajmy się do błędów i winy
wszak nuda i rutyna
od miłości odpycha
fatamorgana w głowie trwa
obudz się ty wybaczę ja
number of comments: 0 | rating: 0/0 | detail |
RENATA, 2 may 2021
cytryna
w gardło się lało
w głowie szumiało
i ciągle się chciało
na bani być
kołysze się pokój
a może żyrandole
dajcie wy mi spokój
bo wam przypierdolę
język się zaplątał
aż stąd do kolan
zahaczył o pięty
chyba pierdolnięty
zwinął się w supełek
gdy tak właśnie już
chciał dojebać komuś
a tu ani rusz
oj biada będzie z ciebie marmolada
na cóż jest dziś maskarada
ręce rozkłada i zaciska
ależ ty jesteś brzydka
jak cała łażnia publiczna
tylko jeden jest ideał
który innych poniewierał
ten co w lustrze się ogląda
i najładniej zawsze wygląda
number of comments: 0 | rating: 0/0 | detail |
Satish Verma, 1 may 2021
Come Again
Intercepting the random
poems, pick not
the holy water, in your palm.
I cannot lift the words.
Dark bellies, in moon's
autumn, will play with flutes.
You will swoon on the
sight of blood at the hands.
It was not the first time, a
lamb in the midair―
falls on the golden spear of
new theme, to bluff the naiveness.
Somebody takes a turn, to
find the bell, which will not send
any sound, on the death of
the poppies.
number of comments: 0 | rating: 0/0 | detail |
Satish Verma, 30 april 2021
Contradiction
A textual study
of pain and bliss.
I was coming for a reprisal
from a temporal crisis
of intimacy.
Always gnawing at me,
the roll down from
love to hate. Which was
impersonating what, like
a talking parrot?
Soft murder. You will
half-die, poker-faced in
grey night under the full moon,
holding a poem
written for a black sun.
I shall never get
over my dilemma.
number of comments: 0 | rating: 0/0 | detail |
Satish Verma, 29 april 2021
Not Blameless
Whoso stills the
thunder, it was difficult
for you to lift yourself.
A failed past was―
asking for a date
with destiny.
What your gut bacteria
would say, when
it is raining hot kisses?
I extricate myself
from the shelled house
of pride against the risk.
Should I prepare myself
for the worst? Midnight
syndrome will attract the moths?
number of comments: 0 | rating: 0/0 | detail |
Satish Verma, 28 april 2021
Pain Of Hawthorn
Butchers were in panic.
The bulls are coming.
Dandelions were
in strike mode.
The Ebola dream
was competing.
Nobody there
sleeps in open.
The stink of dying
poems overwhelms.
Please make a
self-potrait like
Rembrandt nude
without a mirror.
There was no
night watch.
number of comments: 0 | rating: 0/0 | detail |
Satish Verma, 27 april 2021
Hacked To Live
He used to dream
of date palms, covering
the defended wounds.
The scoli crab after
the fall will stay. It will
not change the referendum.
The neuter will not
form the trinity. I will
not hear the signals.
Night was not yet
dark to explore the moon.
My stars remain faded.
O country, the people
O planets, the goddess
of rape is dead.
number of comments: 0 | rating: 0/0 | detail |
Satish Verma, 26 april 2021
Eyeshadows
Red horizon―
had bite-marks
of setting sun.
On the table,
I will place all my oblique wares
for a change.
You embrace the strange
things, horns and all. The
dissection was accurate.
A multiplex opens the
gates for all the
lipless gods.
The maddening silence
of the priest was
deafening.
I will not come near the skulls.
number of comments: 0 | rating: 0/0 | detail |
Satish Verma, 25 april 2021
Blue Grace
Darkness always weighs heavy.
And light was weightless.
You were visible to me.
I was not sure, which
god went numerical.
I was carrying my scars.
It offers no solace
if I become you, and
start hunting the filters.
Let the moon rise in―
its imperial robe, in
praise of setting sun.
number of comments: 0 | rating: 0/0 | detail |
Satish Verma, 24 april 2021
Between Flesh And Soul
Under the pear tree
a rape survivor
wavers.
Elsewhere a moon
was sailing in
ghostwalk.
Unsteady in human
chain, you wanted
to know, what―
was the logic
behind the savage
metaphysics?
A curse becomes
a daily bread of the
tongueless victim.
How far do I go
to unearth the myths
of nodding religion?
number of comments: 0 | rating: 0/0 | detail |
Satish Verma, 23 april 2021
Carrying Scars
The prediction goes awry.
I wipe away an exotic
smudge on the paper.
I was trying to fight
venom of adverbs and
adjectives.
I want to retrieve my
poem, as it was― before
the digital onslaught of beheadings.
Give me my garden room,
baby moon and spotless
needles. My blood was blind.
I would come again in
my burial mode, when
your trenches are ready.
number of comments: 0 | rating: 0/0 | detail |
Satish Verma, 22 april 2021
Why To Think
Strange, in silence, I lose
my way, my thoughts.
I will speak.
The long roots were
stronger,
than the myriad leaves.
A shadaw left
you in mid sun. No
one will follow you now.
The tree at last
enters your―
home in deep revenge.
number of comments: 0 | rating: 0/0 | detail |
Satish Verma, 21 april 2021
Unroofed
It haunts.
You still want to see the―
beheading, piecemeal
in borderless pain.
The war had defrauded my life.
An unsoiled moon
was taking depressed steps tonight.
Faith healing had stopped.
Floaters swim again in view.
A forbidden place.
You do not want to visit the
Blood-soaked turf.
Darkness enters
the poem.
number of comments: 0 | rating: 0/0 | detail |
Satish Verma, 20 april 2021
Comic End
The swamp was in
boil. It was raining
again on the open wounds.
The scissors will
play a dirty game. You
divide the river
in right and left.
Enough was the greed
when you follow the bun.
After the surgery, no blood
was left.
I will go.
You would sing in praise
of coolness of water.
It refuses to move.
Escaped the blast, the
sparks. You can sail
in bottomless boat.
number of comments: 0 | rating: 0/0 | detail |
Satish Verma, 19 april 2021
Earthen Dam
An earthen lamp
in loneliness
calls off the day.
After giving you
the golden light,
in its death.
Was it a pure sin,
if I touch
you in pitch dark?
Where the time
sleeps, I will meet
you under no moon.
number of comments: 0 | rating: 0/0 | detail |
Satish Verma, 18 april 2021
Calligraphy
Teaching self the,
art of dying
after a serial failure.
Stone pelting has started.
You cannot hear your own voice.
Praying for the inaccuracy of time's arrow.
A physical dimension,
you will give to your impermanence.
And silent flows the glacier out of banks.
Clear fall, seems inevitable.
The sun rises from the debris of moon,
from drop on drop of watery eyes.
number of comments: 0 | rating: 0/0 | detail |
Satish Verma, 17 april 2021
Monstrosity
What would you say―
if I shed my identity,
before the water enters the boat?
A cold-blooded,
culpable homicide, of the genius,
whom you gave your house
of cards.
Amidst the pathless windows
leading to no night
no dawn.
The ice bucket dramatics.
What message you want
to send, to thirsty small birds.
The fishermen sleep
beyond the echoes. No stones
were going to scream.
number of comments: 0 | rating: 0/0 | detail |
Satish Verma, 16 april 2021
Talking Of Love
Selene, the goddess of
the moon, promises―
not to fall in love.
Putting on hold―
the shrine, the statue,
going for sale.
No epilogue was
needed, at the end
of play; it starts again.
The painter was dead,
before completing the art
of defying the end.
Walking in ruins
for love of poetry, you
wanted the feel of the beginning.
number of comments: 0 | rating: 0/0 | detail |
Latest comments:
11 may 2021
An - Anna Awsiukiewicz
a to jeszcze nie koniec tej zabawy.
11 may 2021
cudny
11 may 2021
oj tam, oj tam
11 may 2021
smutne..
11 may 2021
waw
11 may 2021
troszkę mroczno --he, czas żyć dla wnuka
11 may 2021
Dziękuję cudny... Kocham Cię..
10 may 2021
sam53
wiosennie , aby nie za słodko :)))
10 may 2021
białe jest piekne :))
10 may 2021
okropnie słodki....byłoby dosadniej....miło
10 may 2021
dzięki An za słowo pod wierszem ... :)))
10 may 2021
jeśli tylko
fajnie znalazłeś..
11 may 2021
Satish Verma
10 may 2021
kalik
10 may 2021
wiesiek
10 may 2021
Satish Verma
9 may 2021
jeśli tylko
9 may 2021
wiesiek
9 may 2021
Satish Verma
8 may 2021
martini
8 may 2021
wiesiek
8 may 2021
RENATA