Satish Verma, 10 june 2020
When you stand still
in unbearable agony, the unquiet
dark starts settling
around me.
Why this crisscrossing of
ill-bred beliefs and credences?
Hacking of the circinate thoughts?
After the rolled up,
tip of pain lies in the center.
The dead leaves,
noises of the past-are gathering up
with ugly exhibits.
As origami, you fold it
and put it back
in ice box.There was no need
to decorate the death's crown.
Eyes half-shut
will not see the moon rise.
Satish Verma, 9 june 2020
Sitting in the sun
preparing the relic, for
future visitation.
The geranium bleeds
for the god particle, which
always eludes
the man.
A tiger would sleep
in my bed, jettisoning
the fish of your eyes.
The glass eye breaks,
enters the tomb of the orb
sheltering the darkness.
There was no clear answer-
from the mask, as if why
the tryst with stars failed.
Satish Verma, 7 june 2020
Call me avenger,
after the punch line had-
damaged the hidden ghost.
I want you to
let me go now after the sunset.
My odyssey has not ended.
You are not
what you were, once
upon a time.
The seven colors
are wearing the dark dresses.
Trading has become the hallmark
of light.Let me write my name
without alphabets.
The echoes come back
to pick the mundane sounds.
The celestial music will not be played again.
Satish Verma, 6 june 2020
Would you live without your
shell, one day? A chasm
was growing between us. I
was feeling very aloof.
Intruding on your private
grief, sometimes I will
see the blue veins ascending
the marbeled thighs.
Beehive and death, sets
us apart. Beyond the age
a sun sinks in crimson glory.
To bring peace on the spikes of grass.
The dreams were disappearing.
The house sits knee deep
in thoughts. I will be collecting the
knobs fallen from the doors.
Satish Verma, 5 june 2020
Performing to a script
you divide me like a fish.
From dirt a face rises.
One flew over the sea
to count the red islands
where the rocks hanged the dry skulls.
Why did you kill the panthers
by feeding them the toxic menu?
Sugar was never my cup.
It was not the question
of bread and butter:
we were talking of clean air.
The ashes will rule now.
Satish Verma, 4 june 2020
Celebrating the death.
Neither physical, nor nostalgic-
I adore the finish,
in place of wages.
Not cerebral.It was
my pledge to remain a husk
after the carnage.
In manthanal I will preserve
the memories of hairless moon-
my nomadic friend.
Like a woodpecker to mark my
territory, I want to stay
alone in my grief.
March and dahlias.Sometimes
I stand before them and,
talk about ephemerality of the beauty.
When would you come
to say goodbye?
RENATA, 2 june 2020
nie wiem nie wiem kim jestem
kim byłem dokąd podążam
a ty możesz kierować
zasupłany w swoje słowa
pełna głowa pełen język
więzy więzy
palce wciąż piszą piszą
każdą czynność
nic nie jest niewinne
a najgorszy strach
wmówiłaś mi że
jestem mordercą
więc zabiłem
RENATA, 2 june 2020
Renata ---Rzeźnik na pdst Rzeznika M.Czornyj-2-06-2020
obłąkana natura potwora
zabija robi przetwory
w tych bigosach jest moc wielka
już na targu robi się kolejka
widziały jego oczy
dużo wojennej przemocy
serce zamknięte w butelce
rozum stuka się w czoło
gdzież tyle mięsa marnować
jakiś czas ma spokój
pracuje choć z jedną nogą
namiętnie chodzi do kina
chłopców nagania mu słynna bileterka
nie wiedziała że sama skończy w walizce
pociągu relacji Szczecin-Katowice
tylko dlatego że tak bardzo chciała być z nim
zrobiła się nachalna zwłaszcza po kilku głębszych
demony w głowie robią dziury
szczątki wnętrzności siekierą
młotkiem na dół do góry
Irena ostatnia była w jego zbiorach
z jajecznicą dobrze smakowała
jej głowa w rzęsach jeziora tonie
Rzeźnik zawisł na klamce
u piekła bramy
bez łaski
Satish Verma, 2 june 2020
After the full moon
I will collect roses
from your ashes.
The essay will not-
be written, about,
how did I love you.
The silent shriek
was left alone
in the valley.
Satish Verma, 1 june 2020
I know the flesh heals
but not the ethos.
Though I was not the doer
yet I did't fail in my journey
through dark.
It was a fait accompli.
Knelt in prayer, I was branded
with hot iron.
Why am I shaking
like Titanic? Your long arm
did not save me from the shining
iceberg of simple knowledge.
Do we go together in the sea?
The dark music was very
enticing.Brick by brick we had
made the levee.Now the river of rage
has broken the embankment.
You want to climb
from the abyss.A death wish
overtakes the hills.
Poetry
Prose
Photography
Graphics
Video poems
Postcards
Diary
Books
Handmade
