12 february 2016
Wayward Son
Silent go the dead
on the moon,
to know the secret of its smile.
Did we know the ending of leads?
The dream within the thoughts?
Silent moves the trembling hand
to print its signature on the heart.
what is so tragic about life?
The memory of bruises or attachment?
We always talked about cleanliness
of language, of lending beauty to words,
when hate and anger brought on the
ugly nuances.
Somebody revises the text,
Tongue tastes the skin,
I start counting my failures
and my books.
Silent stands the mother
for the wayward son.
26 april 2024
The EntitySatish Verma
25 april 2024
2504wiesiek
25 april 2024
QuartzSatish Verma
24 april 2024
The End StartsSatish Verma
23 april 2024
Three poemsAdam Pietras (Barry Kant)
22 april 2024
Echoes TravelSatish Verma
21 april 2024
od wewnątrzsam53
21 april 2024
2104wiesiek
21 april 2024
Picking RelicsSatish Verma
20 april 2024
To Dying MuseSatish Verma