Wiadomsky, 3 april 2021
I could see the storm in her eyes, hidden behind the clouds of irises.
Before it started pouring down, I saw lightning flash across her face.
Her hair fluttered restlessly like crows before taking off.
They yelled that she is a witch, but all I could hear was the wind.
With thoughts full of her scent, I drowned in the depths of her soul.
Before her I was dopehead trying to fill the chasm with the void.
Satish Verma, 3 april 2021
It was time to
modify the heritage―
in a delicate bid to
aid the dying.
A wrenching decision was―
to ask for an apology
from a living god.
I will crack, but
not come to you, to
invoke the grace of mercy.
The twilight sits at
my door to seek the nemesis.
Why did I swallow the moon
without asking the sky's womb?
Cocooned. Afraid
to show the scarred skin.
Your words bloom in dark,
like a cereus. I collect the fame
to light the candle in wind.
Satish Verma, 2 april 2021
Can you contain it;
the call,
one animal?
*
A baby hurt,
sometimes―
you enjoy.
*
The full moon was―
as poor as,
a church mouse.
*
Sitting in court
watching a
finch play with water.
Satish Verma, 1 april 2021
Farce,
you think―
you will not come back
like Argentine
dinosaur
130,000 pounds
That was
metaphysical
There is no space sacred,
left to die
No time, cause
or substance
You can speak to me, unspeaking
without wires
There is no carrot
for the god
Satish Verma, 31 march 2021
Sundown, the masks
come out and a game of
perfidy begins.
Words disappear. A
long pause. You will kill two
birds with one stone.
You and ultimate.
No threats. Only the
heat and flames of summer.
In a dark cave, the icicles
form a white deity.
The religion of the body
and flesh, has no god,
no prayer.
The candle burns―
without a wick, melts
into a blue lake.
RENATA, 28 march 2021
Bieda/czek
Hujaczek huśtaczek
Zakochał się i nie wie
Co robić
Choć ja niepewna farsy
I roli nudnej kluchy żony
Co robić
Wydaje mu się że ją kocha
Tak pięknie przejrzyście
Jeszcze nie było
Współczuć kto komu
W tym domu przywiązać
Do klucza uciec
Sam na sam z tym i owym
Wiedzieć mogę liczyć
Czy przeliczyć się
Co robić
Zawiało pożarem i ultimatum
Zjedzone miałeś żonę
Głupi ciul wiosną mózg
Poluje na ekstra nagość
Co robić
Gdy głowy
Dwie nic nie myślą
Tu i tam
Hujowo
Satish Verma, 27 march 2021
A spotless white moon
was hiding the―
ink spilled on the apron.
*
The pretty nouns
scramble for hope―
if there was any.
*
You could not undo―
what a rose―
did, in broad daylight.
*
A town lives
under a tree, in shade.
The ants come and go.
Paweł Szkołut, 26 march 2021
Poetry is a search for brilliance.
Poetry is the royal road
which will lead us the farthest.
A. Zagajewski
Although poetry
this secular religion
whose priests are poets
– will not save the world
she is its very essential added value
born of the four elements
and the invisible divine one
a poem can both heal
and extend your life now
and post mortem
although poetry will not save the world
she permeates it right through
- and she is the soul of its body
the almost infinity of poetry and its words
in all the languages of mankind
(just like music with its sounds and notes)
- are in harmony
with the boundless but finite Universe
although poetry will not save the world
there will reborn, set free and redeem
and will give it a new breath and life
Logos -
the Word of God
2015
Satish Verma, 26 march 2021
Escaping the unknown
becomes easier
when you listen
to the echos of dark.
My god says, the peeled
oranges will feed the
starved moon, when you
invite the rains.
Invisible hills will send
the bronze poems to you,
once the black night starts
drinking the green water.
The nightmare looms large―
climbs up my chest to
lick the isles, throwing me in
parenthesis, failing the commas.
Satish Verma, 25 march 2021
Unbelievability.
I am nudged to shift
the centre of gravity.
The flames are touching
both of us. A civilized frisking
to unmask the secret.
I look at the dark
sky to plant the stars.
Unreached and unreachable
were you― in the carnival.
A creepy night nods.
I must wait for your zodiac
to blink and release the
incense of dew drops.
There was no destination.
I am a surfer, will not skirt
a thunderbolt.
Blood stains will appear later.
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