John, 15 july 2020
Even though you have the potential
to treat her like a queen
you understand that a king
can not run a kingdom without a queen
you are willing to be a servent
you understand that
you have to follow before you can lead
You know that her mind is so meaningful
your willing to travel the open sea
just to see how beautiful her treasured mind can really be
you feel you are destined to be with her
you whole heartdly feel
your the only one with the keen eye
To see inner beauty
cause that's what beauty really is
You feel you can protect her for harm
never think once about ruining her life
for any gems
there is no
Space
in my
Mind
that I waste
Time
trying to think of way to over
Power
her nor manipulate her
Reality
condemn her
Soul
for a infinity stone
just to show her being with me is inevitable
If you read between these lines
All I hear is selfishness
This part is more of an intervention speech
Less of a poetic flow
Even though you can do all these things
you have never asked the one question
that actually really mattered
where does her
independent as a women fit
what can she do for herself
Does she need someone to control her life is it the fact that she talked about her hurt so many times
that you don't feel confident
that she can't make the right decisions
she can rises
To a more positive life
Does she really need
a Knight in shining armor
to protect her from her own decision
even though you say
you wont manipulate her
but in fact that's just another
Way to manipulation
you come to her with all the answers
flex with all your power
you make her feel
that she does not need to lift a finger
you get her use to that
so when she feels like
she needs to do less she says to herself
"my man handles that."
but in fact
now she puts herself in a boxed cage
you made
you wonder why she yells and complains it's because she feels like a caged bird trying to feel free
queen trying to not feel
the only thing she is good for is
to kiss the feet of a power hungry king
She doesn't need a sex partner
a sugar Daddy
all she need is a friend
all she needs is to know there is someone out here willing to listen to her
struggles
relate to the pain
Help her understand
Their is light at the end
You see
She had a light and wanted to share
But the person she chose to share it with
Choose to horde and steal all her gems
Pillaged her mind and body
Left her in darkness
Unwilling to give her a light to see the end
And all she was left with
Is less fun memories
more of misery
abuse
manipulation
No longer seeing the point of having a man
all she needs is a friend
not a boyfriend
not someone to sell her dreams
Or dangle
hopes she feels is to good to even believe
So just be a friend
not a fairy tail
cause her beliefs about man
has to be rebuilt
Cause her mind is set on being alone
cause that's more safer then being abused by a man.
Satish Verma, 14 july 2020
It was a basic instinct.
You wanted to become something-
on unstable legs, hijacking my dreams
for treason.
Like an amputee-
you were hobbling around
to find the door of gold
in the jungle of twists and breaches.
Only a fathom depth
you need to hide your cadaver
of past sins.
Scattering your seeds in vain
all-night, the dawn was away,
still waiting on the wings of tomorrow.
The mourners with their quivering
lips cannot sing an elegy.
Satish Verma, 13 july 2020
Your thin white skin spreads
on the front. The blue
veins have become the strings,
annexing my peninsula.
You had said, it was a
bit of stretch, to cover the
lies of a fading sun,
for a delayed penitence.
Living water will bring clouds
to fill in the lakes of grief.
One day the lilies will grow-
meet in the air, for sombody's sake.
The black moon was still
raw. All the weeds had
become snakes. I start
hating this season of mating.
Satish Verma, 12 july 2020
The snow:
Pounding the earth, trees
the man.
Centuries of hunger repeat the
raven's walk on icefield.
The drum beats again.
The cold war tapping
at your doors. Missiles made
ready to fly.
The rhyme comes back to
weave the funeral song.
Blood curdles, as you step up
the agony.
The stings, the venoms,
the blue veins. The murderers
were ready to-
receive the gifts.
Satish Verma, 11 july 2020
Less likely to be a truth,
let's celebrate the healing touch
of a hidden god.
It was an absolute
invasion, but I did't believe
in any war.
Timeless quest for the-
elixir of life and enigmatic
divinity.Answers were
always fragile.
I want none of your books.
In humbling pride I will
find my own solution.
Life was a question.
No birthdays.
Rolling thoughts- need
no sermons.
Satish Verma, 10 july 2020
You become absent in
repose..I try to rein in the
subterfuge in stranger's eyes.
There was nothingness. A chestnut
tree was refusing to let go
the nuts.
The phantom fight begins between the
daffodils. The sun had given
the borders, step by step, to
different colors. Still the bloom
weeps for its blindness. I will
not unmake me. The faith―
this winter was bad. The
deathmarks were evident. We
wait for something to happen,
ready to unroll the schizophrenia.
Satish Verma, 9 july 2020
Bigotry, is that you with
the lost numbers?
Looking back, will not
light the road.
I could not haul myself
out, of the kitchen, of narrative.
Something makes me jittery,
counting my failures. You revert back
to the caravan.
After the love. The lines
burn and you set aside the goal―
of becoming free from writing off
the man.
Satish Verma, 7 july 2020
The dark borders
were shifting, rejecting
the inner voices.
The echoes bring apocalypse
with costs. I hear
the silent prayers.
de jure? I want
to letter the unknown fears
of the epilogue.
The whistling pain of the
words, brings
the blood flowers.
Aghast, at the cupidity,
of man, where shall
I start the charity?
Satish Verma, 6 july 2020
This was profanity.
A dead club moss resurrects,
when you sprinkle the water over
dried wrinkled leaves.
From darkness to light
you break the bowl of an angel
and the invisible spills out.
Brother in terror -
of mixed turbans.You smell
the burning flesh all around.
Speed of light from superflares
was not colossal, than the blast of man.
Look, it is still dark here..
Now climb the holy
hills, rising like the breasts
of weeping earth, to collect
the daisies for final call.
Satish Verma, 5 july 2020
You can legitimate
the loot. There will be no
spineless resistance.
The skull cap only covers
the baldness hiding
the keratinized skin.
The lust shines
like pearls on your upper lip.
Beehive.
Poking the rabbit
before it jumps, you will
remember the ducks have no ears.
Ah, the learned
professor, he has started
teaching the full lips.
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