RENATA, 16 december 2019
bądż
moim natchnieniem
oczu odcieniem
serca odbiciem
uszu zachwytem
życiem
zmysłów powiewem
marzeniem
a Ty liczysz dni
czułe słówka szepczesz mi
i płaczesz i jęczysz i coś cię dręczy
bieda żyć ci nie da
wyciągasz rękę po mój chleb
choć wiem
że nie dla mnie z tobą raj
daję gdy mówisz daj
obietnicami ścielesz chwil parę
odchodzisz wreszcie zostawiasz ranę
a ja z wielkim bólem
składam złamane serce
minus na koncie jak stąd do Rzymu
lecz ja z rozpaczą wybaczam jeszcze
wołam wróć
ja cię wezmę
co za głupia krowa
myśli ten i ów ludź
a ty poszłeś w diabły
sny o szczęściu
poszły w niepamięć
po latach mówię
byłeś mą klątwą
chamie
Satish Verma, 16 december 2019
A sleepwalker gives up
a snake,
inside the sleeves.
The dog outruns
the moon.
*
You draw a blue line
around the summer night.
Flames.
I will drive out
the ghosts.
*
The acid attack
went for the thatch.
You will snorkel now,
under the reeds.
Satish Verma, 15 december 2019
Lesser evil of a god
will preside over
the verdict. There was
a sexual assault
in the temple.
*
If you have an eye, you
will you find a
naked king,
riding on a
golden horse.
*
Friends. It is time,
that will give
you a slip.
Beware of the
dark sentry.
Satish Verma, 14 december 2019
Under a sickle moon,
the effect was colossal.
The mute words
were floating like vespae.
There was no―
promised nest of paper.
You cannot land
without ink.
The grey beard starts
weaving a web of
lies. Larvae will―
feed on blessed water.
Very warm, very hollow.
The globe turns. You stand
on the surface,
cannot fathom out the human mind.
Satish Verma, 13 december 2019
Ceaselessly,
the September moon
was sending poems
in quick succession.
Life had come to a grinding halt.
The walls,
wait to end the race of
stings. The heat was
a dirty yellow.
You will witness the fall of a titan.
The genome of red
wine grape was
similar to a forgotten
verse, after the―
rage of ageing cells of a sage.
Satish Verma, 12 december 2019
This September. It is
going to be very quiet.
I am trying to caress
the mimosa, which
always said,
touch-me-not.
The spontaneous probe
will start the construct in love
of philosophy to mimic
the animal plus
the femineity.
A clock was moving
without hands. Time was up
but legs were amputated.
How will you walk
towards your truth?
Satish Verma, 11 december 2019
Uncannily sanguine,
wounded by biting gnats―
you return home.
You would call the
family for a final―
drink and
drown the moon.
You have come very
far from the inviting
shores in deep sea―
to be sucked into the
whirlpool of silence―
to end the sounds.
You will not put the
bread upside down. Who
will provide the priceless again?
A small saga of unheard renegade?
RENATA, 10 december 2019
ona by tak chciała
mieć pieniądze
tyle tyle aż
choćby cały bank
ona by tak chciała
uciec stąd
słyszy słyszy głosy
stare jak ten świat
ona by tak chciała
sama być
tak tak realnie
trzeba syna zabić
przyszpilić do łóżka
udusić poduszką
uciec szybko z miejsca
do samego piekła
piekło znajdzie w sobie
na nic jej pieniądze
świata zza krat nie zobaczy
nikt za nią nie zapłacze
Satish Verma, 10 december 2019
Downy mildew,
blinks. The sun
will not come back
to rein in its own might.
The temple gold,
has come for sale―
in bazaar.
On the balcony, stand
bystanders to witness the free fall.
The black door,
plays hide-and-seek
with light.
Green eyes will now
bargain for hips.
Satish Verma, 9 december 2019
Overlooks the juvenility.
The shrinking genitals.
It was the militancy.
The freedom, brought
about by the guns.
Now indiscreetly firing at the sky.
This deadpan delivery
of the shut doors. Economy
has failed the toads,
the croaking minions. A raw
poem speaks now
for the unopened coffins.
The run, the run of the
century begins. Some one was
running, non-stop, from
sleep to sleep, away from the sexual
assaults, from rapes, from
man-slaughter.
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