RENATA, 5 march 2021
poszukując księcia trafiłam
na Ciebie ogarnąłeś mnie
wprowadzając w stan hipnozy
kawa i czekolada podarowana
smakowała kurewsko słodko
zlizuję fałsz cnotę i wstyd
aż stajesz się gotowy
a potem roztapiam się
roztapiam się pod twoimi palcami
jak księżniczka z czekolady
Satish Verma, 5 march 2021
Where will you go
when you are not right,
not wrong?
And train will not stop
at your station. You
have to wait till sunrise.
Half-mist, half-moon―
and the glass houses.
The rocks refuse to fly.
The consecrated dawn
on a silent street whispers.
The city was dead.
I sleep after the naked
assault. The black shirts
and the white shirts have no answer.
Satish Verma, 4 march 2021
Stone gods
envision the interface
between man and beast.
*
He sits with his
head sunk in knees.
Wants to become a painting.
*
A black piano
looks around for the
blind maestro.
*
He was fighting
with the shadows of ghosts
on walls.
Satish Verma, 3 march 2021
Multiple hurts― and
you still want to live
in this dystopia.
The queue was
lengthening to catch up
with moon.
The gate man will talk
of an apocalypse.
The repeat flame, which
does not die in the presence
of sun.
The thoughts. Will they
ever stop in dark? The
moonlight gathering the ashes.
The erotica fails to
cast the net. You want to
collect the venom of desire
capping the end blues.
Satish Verma, 2 march 2021
After a long journey
he wants to sit
under the moon.
*
Not calling home,
he wanted to cross
the religion.
*
There was no clearing―
of subterranean fears.
I have accepted the mats.
*
In boiling water
why did you jump
to save the fish?
Satish Verma, 1 march 2021
I want to be
eloquent, with myself―
to write a poem.
*
Do you have
a clean blade
as pure as a plum?
*
Not enough
were the seeds,
for green fingers.
*
A grivever―
comes back, to undo
the guilt of others.
Satish Verma, 28 february 2021
Talking of myths,
in dichotomy of grace―
when somebody said that
the facts were loose truths.
Your faith slumbers―
when you are awake. And
you, my door of night, will
wear the tears of dawn.
Not sharing the loneliness,
when I was dispensing the
laughs amidst the grief
of hills. The trees, the slopes
and seeds― that will never bear
the fruits.
And there, I did't want
to celebrate my unwritten epitaph
after completing the life
of falls.
And the neighborhood still
sleeps when I decide to walk away
towards the dark.
Satish Verma, 27 february 2021
The wheels.
I decide to abandon―
the home.
*
The pain of darkness
returns. Wax
drips from a taper.
*
A sickle moon―
stirs,
my religion.
*
Deep anguish,
after the taste of
your own blood.
Satish Verma, 26 february 2021
This was an illegal kill
between you and me.
I will abdicate―
my headstone.
The black eyes keep on staring
at the orange wings.
Butterflies presage
the quake's qualms.
Very unsettled, I was,
against the odds. I was trying
to figure out my―
new passage.
Slaughtered with a sickle,
a faith lies―
bleeding, I bring out the
cannabis for peace.
Satish Verma, 25 february 2021
At crisis of
inquiry, you search
the questions.
Life throws up a savage violence.
Bruising our psychies
we try to know each other.
At the end of the road,
we try to start a conversation.
There was a huge presence―
of some unseen force.
Much ado, looking
through each other. Would
you call me again?
Let there be a brutal
confession. I take back
my words and rewrite a poem.
Poetry
Prose
Photography
Graphics
Video poems
Postcards
Diary
Books
Handmade
