Satish Verma, 30 october 2012
Fire in kidneys
was burning the basket.
Privacy of green thumbs
was intimately involved.
Let us share the candle light march
for the blossoms,
who would not stay
for old birds,
Read me again the epitaph
of the martyr, who wanted to remain
unsung, for the sorrow of
the flowing river.
Frenzy of a lone wolf was
inconsolable, when the dam spilled
the dead wood on the empty
bed of roses.
Satish Verma
Matthew Bass, 29 october 2012
took the 56 bus downtown
to a place once real,
or at least in imagination.
The flat windows and cold steel
that scraped against the winter sky
felt like human parking lots
hanging over the abandoned shoulders
of people running back and forth,
while the homeless sold newspapers
no one cared enough to read.
A city lived only in imaginations
by people without imaginations.
I talked to old friends along a dirty river
about nothing about a reoccurring past,
their names slowly forgotten, names whitewashed
into a tapestry of post-industrial bliss.
I followed an address to my childhood:
an empty void with escaping memories
blowing in the lake effect wind.
And when I awoke
I walked forward... because
there was no where else to go;
tears were not worth the trouble.
Satish Verma, 29 october 2012
Turns me on
I will write a poem.
Delirious moon had
picked me up from under the skin.
The safety pin was broken,
now a crowd will disrobe me.
Everytime when my pain makes you cry
oranges are not meant for the sale.
A collegium will stich up the wound.
Once upon a caste the country will go.
• On reading Orange Crush of Simone Muench.
Satish Verma
Glenn McCrary, 28 october 2012
Daylight has cuffed the forsaken canyons
And as I am just rousing from a fair slumber
Saluted I am by a spectrum strangely colored smoke
Could it be possible that evolution advanced so hastily
The mist that is emitted from her orifice
Remind me of happy, platinum things
May her lips bear more phenomenons
cauchy3, 28 october 2012
China WEN JIABAO MONEY RANKS..
Who chase the ranks of money notes?
The premier ways are rice and smokes.
Our premier danseur good is smells.
The peony cards are rich that held.
Those cards are premier free to sign.
Too strong to break is premier kind.
His wife can keep the ranks of moon.
Our WEN JIABAO premier feels the spoons.
Reliable ranks are moneys ranks.
Discontent words will worth their hands.
Extend to thousand china millions are bucks.
There asserts are secret making lucks.
That Sudden break and out as rich.
Believe to be humble all must meet.
Reveal as very rich is lucks.
What lucks are cores and nuts?
--------------Cheung Shun Sang=Cauchy3---------
Satish Verma, 28 october 2012
Firing of neurons
accelerates,
under the weight of ruthless
originalism.
A crowd collects the strength of collider
and starts throwing back
sparks in dark.
Each face looks like a spider
alighted from alienness:
distills terror.
The smile
was a miracle.
Never materializes
A prayer time
for balloons
ready to commit unforgivable sin, sin.
Satish Verma
Kazeronnie Mak, 28 october 2012
Everyone has his own name.
The name is also his registered label !
And how many people will protect it seriously ?
No matter the one is SOMEBODY or NOBODY !
They still have their own reputation !!!
-----------------------------------------------------------
Try to seek for the success, never find an excuse for the failure !
Satish Verma, 27 october 2012
I do not want to take you,
either the road ahead,
or lovely gyrations
on low stage of voicelessness.
The swoop of eagle
on a little bundle,
of chromatic fever:
was it unbirdy?
The tree of death grows taller
than indelible darkness
of life, harvesting
tongues.
Part of me were you,
I had abandoned in fog.
The gate will not open
in common courtyard.
Satish Verma
Goldie Lopez, 26 october 2012
Gentle fingers of vivid dreams...
master at avoiding things.
Surprised to see another day,
but still live in disarray.
Uninterrupted a prisoner of the past.
Makes you feel so special holding a piece of glass.
Beauty to you is untouched,
Its purity... made by man.
Hidden scars beneath peeled skin...
mute to hear the screams within.
Tears of something lost, dying in your eyes,
sticks forms your castle...
built in the sky.
Still never learnt yet lesson...
chasing lies and ruined dreams.
Broken hearts reflect the cost... of unworthy things!
What is stable, decaying within...
holding a piece of glass makes you whole again.
no one see’s your pain,
or problematic life...
blaming the world for your mistakes
Take responsibility, carry some of the weight.
Ignorance is golden...
for a fool who loves gold.
Or builds with sticks instead of stones.
When will you learn to follow,
the guidance of the spirit within?
When listening is worth so much more,
than broken glass shattered...
from an afflicted soul.
Gert Strydom, 26 october 2012
My darling, there is something
that is great, that is unseen happening
as our love becomes unlimited
as with new life spring rushes in
and even when the days seems plain
when there is no right and ready answer for pain,
when scorching hangs the summer sun
still our love intensely does remain.
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