Satish Verma, 3 june 2018
It was spirit of the time.
The lethal trade of─
missiles, someone was sending free.
You collect the cachet
of bleak weather. The
roses were in bloom.
Trying to conceive the
buttercups in the blue─
frame of melancholia.
I err, and find myself
in sleep after the contact.
A genetic gratitude overwhelms.
You catch the stings
blindly. The other sin will
take care of itself in blood.
Satish Verma, 2 june 2018
After a hard day
a game-changing starts,
igniting the night.
You are buried
in stitches. The wounds
are devoid of blood.
Will you split the─
silence along the words?
There was no awareness now.
A persona
becomes a revolution. The streets
are painted red.
The monument
drifts. You wash the landscape
with moonlight.
Satish Verma, 1 june 2018
That was a pioneer,
lunatic moon,
and me an unwilling partner.
The panther leaps again.
I suffer from
stab to stab.
The giver, sucks,
in genocide.Adoration
becomes a scourge.
One malingerer
leads to another.
The healer was very sick.
My master was a fake
The book was empty
and the print was gone.
Satish Verma, 30 may 2018
A hot body
was a hymn to the night.
I will drink
the moonlight.
In December─
a poem? Words freeze
in full bloom. The
corona becomes blue.
A rose bud breached.
Beast was out.
Renato N. Mascardo, 30 may 2018
linguae ignes
legions
upon legions
of tongues of fire flew out
from the spirit in search of the
chosen
on that
Pentecost day
most found their marks in the
city of david except for
a squad
that lost
its bearings and
entered a roomful of
cooks in caesarea perching
on the
crowns of
bewildered men
these fiery tongues flamed
out and so the shish kebab
was born//
renato
tuesday 29 may 2018
Satish Verma, 29 may 2018
I love you in poverty of
words;
when you are not seeking
anything.
A dusky strength, self-
deprecating,
holding forth the virtues of
self-denial.
What was the awareness of
a blind?
Of shadows of migrating birds
in moonlight?
Hold my extended arm. May
be you can fall,
looking without eyes in the depth
of the sea.
Satish Verma, 28 may 2018
Drunk at
midnight, playing with
moon squibs.
*
Hearing─
a nocturne, the spirit soars,
when you are drowned.
*
A galaxy
invites me for a night vigil.
Some elixir will rain.
Satish Verma, 27 may 2018
For unspoken answers,
there was always the─
question, why hawks
were needing the peace?
Tied to innate fringes,
I want an explicit display.
The prologue was very
misleading.
War was inside and
outside. Were you a hobbes-
ian? I am not afraid
of death.
Reacted so violently.
The colored shirts should be
taken off. Let us see
the scars!
steve, 26 may 2018
You walked into the room last night.. and I could barely breathe..
I couldn't take my eye's off you.. and my mind could not concieve,
That anything more beautiful.. in this world might exist..
As my eye's caressed all of you.. there was nothing that was missed,
I don't remember what was said.. as my world, dissolved away..
You were all that I could see.. beyond you, only gray,
I couldn't bring my words to mouth.. and I couldn't let it show..
The inferno that consumed me.. was not in my control,
I had to walk away from you.. my thoughts were not my own..
My heart was in complete control.. and you were not alone,
With bated breath and heavy heart.. I tore myself away..
Wanting nothing more than you.. I kept my tears at bey,
There's no good reason.. to let you know, what I feel for you..
It wouldn't change a single thing.. and I wouldn't want it to,
I'll always see you with my heart.. the way I saw you then..
And always will the fires burn.. "just beneath my skin".
sg
Satish Verma, 26 may 2018
When the intellect was
defiling the unwritten book;
half-read, you reach for epiphancy.
Why you had to kill yourself
on the swing, before reaching─
the peak? Searching for escape?
I cannot know you, O flame.
Do not go beyond the sky.
My wings twist like nasturtiums.
Last night a city wept in─
my arms. There were no roses─
left and, no cut glass nudes.
They bleed, when you dig
out the roots. The croci were
planted by me when snow had melted.
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