Satish Verma, 3 november 2019
I would let it go
anything now. Will not accept
any grace.
I am moving unfazed―
buttons apart. Let the night
descend.
A hired applause was not needed.
As the gorgeous earth plays its last tune.
I will wait in the lobby, to fail again.
There was no repeat
of the deciduous teeth,
coming back to chew your fingers.
The small steps you won't
take to bridge the unknown.
Scoping the language, watching
itself dying.
steve, 2 november 2019
It's hard to even come around .. and pretend I'm "just some friend"...
When I look into those deep blue eyes... I'm drifting on the wind,
Your beauty leaves me breathless.. when you come into view...
I lose all sense of any thoughts.. as all thoughts turn to you...
I try to be like other friends.. but your other friends aren't gay...
And awkward moments when I'm with you.. reveal what I can't say,
I can barely breathe at all.. when I get too close to you...
So forgive me if I can't stay long.. for I can't hide the truth,
The tears rain down inside of me..and the river's overflow...
It's not a truth I want to share... but I've no place else to go,
I feel I'm hanging by a thread.. and no one has a clue...
As I try to hide what I feel, but all I want is you,
I can hear the echoes of laughter... when my back is turned...
I know whats it's like to be sacrificed... when your set on fire and burned,
But such is the cost when your different... for some people love to hate...
I just wanted the chance to feel love again... as the hourglass sand slips away.
Satish Verma, 2 november 2019
Stoned to death.
The rooted plants had begun
to climb the mountain.
Very hot here.
Difficult to breath in.
Why lesser flamingos were landing
on dry lake?
They enter via back door.
The multi-tuberculates.
Why the man was
running away from the orchids?
Strange, our lineage was
getting interrupted, by
smoke screens.
Satish Verma, 1 november 2019
It takes billions of years
for ancient light to reach us and
rescue the trapped darkness.
You can hunt among rocks
in the palisades, behind
the ramparts.
There was an apocalypse.
Stem cells were ready
to repair the myelin―
searching ancestry.
It was a tense stand-off
between the headstone and a living dead.
Cannot repay the debt of blue
Sky, sending us
the warnings of catastrophy.
Satish Verma, 31 october 2019
I will meet the moon
on the terrace,
when the dust settles on the
lids, smothering
the uncharted barricades.
Life had been full of dresses
to play the lead in
conflicts of alliance vows.
Like untouched goodbyes,
you hover around the exit―
to seek the blessings of dark.
In the glasshouse, you cannot
walk nude. The wounds, the scars
the burnt-out fabrics
will tell the truth.
A priest will invoke
the mercy of the vessel.
Satish Verma, 30 october 2019
I will not elaborate,
what I mean.
You have to dig out the treasure.
The puzzle was not new.
The memorial will be
buried in the sand.
A bloodbath will give―
the final touch to the
ground, less savoury now of inhumanity.
We celebrate the anniversary
to forget the world's
conflicts, man made.
Will you come in the
dark? The snipers are watching
out for the sparks of mercy.
Satish Verma, 29 october 2019
The credibility
of an apple
becoming an icon.
It draws first
blood, when you―
were sleeping.
It still matters:
thinking of milt
but sinking your ferry.
There was no epilogue.
A midsummer night.
I will forget
your name.
Standing in a
queue, you should not
punish yourself
becoming unmatched.
Satish Verma, 28 october 2019
A breast bomb,
makes a sudden lunge-
disfiguring the landscape
till your body was pulled out.
Your choices were very few.
Either you walk straight
or become a leaf of grass.
It will not work. A swift―
withdrawl from the controversial
marriage with ferocity,
as naked as moon. How
about the aspirant refusing
to sit for engraving in gold?
The salt bearers were coming
to act like gods.
Satish Verma, 27 october 2019
To blunt the offence
of beautiful pain
you stopped remaining good.
This was a perverse phenomenon
wearing the straight jacket
you try to become
a beast.
The glowing eyes will
send the message to dispose off
the headless body of
a marbled saint.
Someone has taken off
the eyes. You will need
a transplant of religion.
I am very unhappy.
Renato N. Mascardo, 26 october 2019
rondeau en rondeau
round he is not my little pet
ten will he be but not just yet
I love him like an only child
but his feelings for me are mild
t'was love at first sight when we met
nine years later love has not set
it will remain lest I forget
with time's toll we are reconciled
round he is not
French is his name yet he is nyet
all day asleep and he is all set
just don't expect him to run wild
my puppy and I are just mild
being laid back he has no regret
round he is not//
renato
26 october 2019 11:37am PHL time
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