Satish Verma, 28 november 2017
A long pause
after my signature peel
of the spasm.
It was a broken flight
of an anguished
end in itself.
Retrograding toward
an apolitical fault
for an apology.
Illegal, soaring, preparing
to take a dive
in the pit of fire.
For a gospel truth you
take cloak off the dagger.
You will sell your nudes.
Satish Verma, 27 november 2017
It heaves you up;
too antsy to stay
on the waves,
inheriting the power-
dynamics of deemed palaces.
Channeling the inner Gandhi
or Buddha to reincarnate
the fragrance of past. Could
have become a golden
era again.
The fraud! Everthing was
created by a mockingbird.
Are you sure there
was a war cry between
the insects?
You remind me of ugly
dads fathering a new generation
of unborn myths.Thousands of
witnesses will keep their
eyes shut.
Satish Verma, 24 november 2017
A tribal kill;
after a blood sucking
ritual.
Do you have a problem?
*
Hovering wasps
will land at will, on
tardy syntax
and misspelt masks.
*
The clouds
have wit and intelligence.
Will drop rains
on venoms.
Satish Verma, 23 november 2017
The twin blasts and
lip-syncing was
no insane coincidence.
The travail of incredible sinking
will never be found.
The abstract family
and myriad remixing of stem cells
may solve the puzzle of
assured suicide of the earth.
The small rapes and big assaults?
A crazy progenitor wanted
to have a control on volcanoes
as on sea. The spewing
lava was throwing gas rich froth
to start a megarevolution.
Was it a terrible mistake of
you coming out of the mud pits?
Satish Verma, 23 november 2017
The twin blasts and
lip-syncing was
no insane coincidence.
The travail of incredible sinking
will never be found.
The abstract family
and myriad remixing of stem cells
may solve the puzzle of
assured suicide of the earth.
The small rapes and big assaults?
A crazy progenitor wanted
to have a control on volcanoes
as on sea. The spewing
lava was throwing gas rich froth
to start a megarevolution.
Was it a terrible mistake of
you coming out of the mud pits?
Satish Verma, 22 november 2017
Midcloud of the –
rainy day.
I am waiting for
the winged guests.
*
In trance
I catch the flying words.
The blank paper
prints the nude.
*
I need
to cover the sharp contours.
You will find
a mystic profile.
Satish Verma, 21 november 2017
Midcloud of the –
rainy day.
I am waiting for
the winged guests.
*
In trance
I catch the flying words.
The blank paper
prints the nude.
*
I need
to cover the sharp contours.
You will find
a mystic profile.
George Krokos, 21 november 2017
After we scale the heights and reach the top
at some point there a while we have to stop.
_________________________________________
George Krokos, 21 november 2017
I have no reservations at all in loving You
and saying this is my proof of it being true.
You're the only one who sees into my heart
no matter where I am though it seems apart.
I can't hide any of my feelings towards You
that rise up from within whatever I may do.
They're so strong at times I'm beside myself
and find that I am acting as such like an elf.
If they really do not draw You closer to me
then I'm bereft of Your love and needn't be.
Please don't hold back in giving any advice
as to how I will be able Your love to entice.
Pure love isn't a game that anyone can play
but is reserved for those who go all the way.
__________________________________
George Krokos, 21 november 2017
I am at a loss when it comes to loving thee
and wonder how this could ever really be.
Love's a feeling that rises up from the heart
and is directed towards one who's apart;
when two people may both casually greet
or when they are by fate destined to meet.
___________________________
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