Satish Verma, 22 august 2018
Move the steps,
to accept the dark.
Moon has abdicated the throne.
I am still trying to become.
Not becoming something.
A lot has remained―
unsaid in my small poems.
I am still trying, still trying
to decipher the life, to decipher.
The roots will know my pain.
My pain, why did I remained
mute amidst the clamouring words?
Tell me, why should it happen?
Why should? That someone jumps
in the boiling cauldron to find the truth.
Satish Verma, 20 august 2018
Move the steps,
to accept the dark.
Moon has abdicated the throne.
I am still trying to become.
Not becoming something.
A lot has remained-
unsaid in my small poems.
I am still trying, still trying
to decipher the life, to decipher.
The roots will know my pain.
My pain, why did I remained
mute amidst the clamouring words?
Tell me, why should it happen?
Why should? That someone jumps
in the boiling cauldron to find the truth.
Renato N. Mascardo, 19 august 2018
RSVP
in her
hilltop home with
seven columns wisdom
had set her table with ample
meat and
wine for
her invited
guests all simple sans nous
most went to the house of folly
instead//
renato
sunday 19 august 2018
Satish Verma, 19 august 2018
Move the steps,
to accept the dark.
Moon has abdicated the throne.
I am still trying to become.
Not becoming something.
A lot has remained-
unsaid in my small poems.
I am still trying, still trying
to decipher the life, to decipher.
The roots will know my pain.
My pain, why did I remained
mute amidst the clamouring words?
Tell me, why should it happen?
Why should? That someone jumps
in the boiling cauldron to find the truth.
Satish Verma, 18 august 2018
Unbecoming, you watch
the sunset.
Something snaps.
Violence was loud.
There was no agreement
between the trees.
I draw a plan
and reach the lake
to listen.
There was no
manifestation. Only
unheard voices.
You get the answer.
Satish Verma, 16 august 2018
It was difficult to revisit,
the birth therapy.
Arms had no emotions,
the violence will not go.
Let us take a back road for
the sake of anatomy.
And find out a man and the woman
to bend the gender.
The rock salt and the bruises
will melt, if you were warm blooded.
Satish Verma, 15 august 2018
I have accepted myself, now.
In incompleteness,
and all flaws.
The bunker was intent,
on self-destruction. Why
did you want to
stop that?
The prodigy will not
walk with me, I know.
Yet my shadow falls in love.
A tear-washed poem
was a good beginning.
Renato N. Mascardo, 14 august 2018
remembering nitoy (b 21-08-1946)
if there
really is an
afterlife i am still
waiting for a postcard from you
maybe
you were
right after all
but in case you're wrong let
bygones be bygones my email's
unchanged//
renato
tuesday 14 august 2018
Satish Verma, 12 august 2018
I have accepted myself, now.
In incompleteness,
and all flaws.
The bunker was intent,
on self-destruction. Why
did you want to
stop that?
The prodigy will not
walk with me, I know.
Yet my shadow falls in love.
A tear-washed poem
was a good beginning.
Renato N. Mascardo, 11 august 2018
hearth cake and water
pursued
by ahab
and jezebel prophet
elijah ended up in the
desert
thirsty
hungry tired and
so unlike job he asked
his lord to end it all under
the broom
tree with
a noosed rope but
gabe the angel smacked him with its
wing and
said you
are a man not
a mayfly elijah
you need to climb horeb so eat
and drink
grumbling
he complained what
am i a horse that drinks
water i prefer ale or wine
so gabe
smacked him
again and he
ate the hearth cakes drank the
water and slept under the shrub
until
gabe smacked
him a third time
with its trumpet this time
shouting wake up sluggard and go
to the
mountain
already for
the lord has things to do
other than waiting for you there
as a
burning
bush and so
the prophet went to the
mountain because the mountain won't come to the
prophet//
renato
friday 10 august 2018
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