Satish Verma, 24 july 2017
Can your words find the color
and smell of a manslaughter
in an unholy stampede?
Head bowed, the handcuffed activism
walks on the street. Now pops
up the moon from forficated clouds.
A decoy was sitting on a tree
with a stunning gaze
to watch the lewd behavior ―
of a mirror engaged with a
self-portrait. Alphabetically
the breast milk spills ―
before you arrive without
mouth. A celebration
starts today for an unborn.
Satish Verma, 23 july 2017
Can you see the smoke
coming from
the brick kiln?
The finches
were jumping into firepit
one by one.
To enlarge―
the space between groping
and assault.
There was no need
to start an uproar
about pungent―
black forest of silences.
A face is suspended in midair.
That simply was not there.
Satish Verma, 22 july 2017
Bending the forked-stick to find
underground water ―
and immortality of thirst.
Lips were fragile. There were
no dew drops on the upper lip.
It tasted like a frozen moon.
Clouds had sucked the childhood.
No one picks up the fireflies
from dark bushes.
Tasered by stings, the moonlight
hangs by the window.
I watch you undressing.
After the blizzard, a rocking chair
waits. Hypothermia. The musical
return of the mute did not take place.
Satish Verma, 21 july 2017
Romancing Neptune
had an
amorous wish.
The body is water.
Take it,
split it,
and then become a doormat.
Blocking the fiesta,
a ghost brings in
storm, in a glass.
Will you drink the moon
in night?
The street now walks in,
taking a call to kill the shades,
of wrinkles. You forgot
your name and move
gingerly from post to post
lightening the lamps.
Satish Verma, 19 july 2017
All night November,
I was searching the vulnerable
lips after loosing you.
Now fingerless hands
were moving the sun-dial
away from light.
The shroud was heavy,
I would not breathe.
Give me a blue moon before dawn.
You cannot engage in
sudden withdrawl. I will
come back for a kiss.
The paper that leaves a wound,
I will not sign for the bread.
My hands had stopped trembling.
Satish Verma, 18 july 2017
Can you enlarge the moment,
when the time stopped and
you were trying to get a
glimpse of beyond?
You become a no-moment, a
no-truth, in a sauteed
orgasm.
And someone plucks a death
from your poems to
resuscitate you, draped
in tears.
The track record will show,
you were only yourself,
and never became a riddle.
Let go of me. It was only
a happening, undoing the
play, held in dark. As I
cross the door, you become invisible.
Satish Verma, 16 july 2017
A midnight craft
dumps the moon
on a heap of deceits.
I ask my sap to turn back for truism.
It was a question of spacing
between the bodies
in scapegoats;
coming for slaughter.
A scale measures the depth
of defeats. The hands
were busy in mending the
walls of psychiatric ward.
Have you ever tasted a white
poison, sweet in taste?
When you grow old, you will
look like your father.
The name which was absent
in calendar, was found everywhere.
Satish Verma, 15 july 2017
As if pruning was not enough.
After severance from the peak,
the ladder was becoming
aloof and murky.
Acid burn on the day
of breaking confidentiality.
An imperfect mirror was
wiping out the cloud, all night.
You are going to take on the
starless sky. A moon was
left out in the stillness of black sheen.
You are now poking at the globes.
Give me a pen to lift the
remorse. I was desperate to become
human. Death was looking at me
with great amusement.
Joe Breunig, 14 july 2017
Eating and drinking, to excess
is an insalubrious proposition;
our gluttony greatly epitomizes
the selfishness that consumes us
when we’re blinded… by our lust.
Our poor behavior demonstrates
the foolishness of our flesh; if
we’re failing to ultimately trust
Him, then we’ll sow the seeds of
destruction and reap the ungodly
results, which may include death.
Despite our mistakes, His Love
covers us, as He patiently waits
for us to respond with the prayers
of a repentant heart; therefore,
let’s resume a way that’s straight
and narrow- the path towards Christ!
Author notes
Inspired by:
Luke 12:20; Gal 6:8; Matt 7:13-14
Trencherman: Person devoted to excessive eating and drinking.
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2017, All rights reserved.
Joe Breunig, 14 july 2017
With a proper attitude of humility,
we can die to ourselves daily, as
Christ leads us on our path of Faith.
In a repentant state, we will see
that it becomes much easier to love
others- as we should! Our actions,
before men, allow His Light to shine
through us; His Word countermoves
against enemy attacks, when we speak
His Truth over Life’s circumstances.
We can overcome, knowing that Christ
gives us strength, when we’re weak.
Author notes
Inspired by:
Matt 16:24–25; Mark 8:34–35; Rom 6-8;
Luke 13:3, 14:27; Gal 2:20, 5:24;
2 Cor 12:9-10
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2017, All rights reserved.
Poetry
Prose
Photography
Graphics
Video poems
Postcards
Diary
Books
Handmade
