Satish Verma, 7 december 2019
The dancing paper,
humilates the pen.
A stunning defeat for morality.
In splendid withdrawl,
the eyelids bear the violence
of soil.
A broken pride
will get back at you.
Step aside. Let the soul read the dewdrop.
The moon meets the
earthen lamp, to understand
the hymns of rag-pickers.
The religion drinks
the aroma of holy vice. Was
there any truth of a beast?
Satish Verma, 6 december 2019
You are waiting
amid fears. The fretting
does not end.
At where,
the road ends? To find a blue star
where do we go?
The house was
sleeping in fog. Inside the
dome, hooves, quiver.
I have to become
mute. Time was black,
my song blue.
A pure crime.
The vultures come in
cloaks to take away the lamb.
Satish Verma, 5 december 2019
You want to cover your
amnesia. Death
has no other color.
How far you will go
to retrieve
the sensibility?
Time does not sit idly.
Undeniably your foe―
poisoning the well.
Sky was overcast and
sends misty rain.
Have the heart-leaves and moon-seeds.
The history concedes.
Molybdenum was god,
initiating life on earth.
RENATA, 4 december 2019
w sadzie wokół jabłoni
twój uśmiech mnie gonił
moje oczy cię rozbierały
a ręce brały
a tam przy starej jabłoni
serce mi dałaś na dłoni
a tam przy młodej gruszy
zakochałam się po uszy
na trawie wśród rumianku
liczyliśmy świerszcze o poranku
graly nam kształty Mendelsona
ty przyszły mąż ja przyszła żona
RENATA, 4 december 2019
W księdze pamięci
Urodziła się i jest
Istota komuś potrzebna
Uczy się i dojrzewa
Kwitnie i obumiera
Wartość swoją mierzy
Sumą doświadczeń
I tylko pamięć zostaje
Zbieraczem absolutnym
W drodze do przeznaczenia
Satish Verma, 4 december 2019
Not confessional.
Without reading the body
there was no room.
My fever rises
in limbs.
Giving me a double vision.
This was not my age.
Out of place, I
call for limestone.
The sea and
moon will make a castle
on the waves.
Whom do you call
careless? I was writing
the verse on blood paper.
Satish Verma, 1 december 2019
A house without doors
I was living
in fog.
The infamous review
will tell about the
fallen words from the roof.
There was no history,
no culture of
cannibalism.
I only exhaled
the grief of centuries
shielding the ankle's pain.
There had been no
perfect picture of the
dancing god in nude.
A blue face swims.
I draw the map of the smell
of cinders.
George Krokos, 30 november 2019
It is said that lightning doesn’t ever strike at the same place twice
and a person passes as a fool who makes the same mistake thrice.
_____________________________
George Krokos, 30 november 2019
Sit in silence and have a break
from everything when you're awake.
Take some time and be by yourself
then you might even improve health.
If this is done regularly
you'll enjoy life more happily.
Close your eyes to then look within
at the darkness that's consuming.
Just observe the thoughts which arise
don't get involved with all their lies.
Seek the light of your Spirit Soul
and it will lead you to the Goal.
_______________________________
George Krokos, 30 november 2019
O Felicity, You have been good to me
how can I ever hope to repay Thee?
Just when I thought that all was lost
Your presence inside me did so accost.
You lifted me gently out of my darkest hours
brightened the day with the colors of flowers;
together with their fragrance while in bloom
was a remedy that dispelled most of the gloom.
And those tears that flowed from my eyes
were in gratitude cleansing like the skies;
after the rains fall and the clouds disperse
the sun shines through with a rainbow verse.
You are so gracious and very caring
in spite of our insolence in despairing;
that grip of sorrow is loosened in our heart
as Your bliss removes the pain bearing part.
Oh, how thankful we should all really be
when we recognize Your uplifting spree;
You are at hand to restore our natural joy
the darkness of ignorance tries to destroy.
__________________
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