Satish Verma, 26 april 2024
I take a lesson
from you O god, before
I write the end.
Who will rise from
the dust of the ruins after
the volcanic blast?
A celebration was
stalled when you had landed
on the dark moon.
Satish Verma, 25 april 2024
Light digs up the hope.
You appear like pure flint.
Sorrow will tell truth.
Weep weep my sun.
Black hole will swallow you.
No need to drink hemlock.
The blank paper has
hidden markings. God wants
to become mortal.
Satish Verma, 24 april 2024
The answers look
at questions, like sparrows
did not find home.
Where wouldgo, the
butterfly poems, to color
the barren thoughts?
You glide like river
of blood in the eyes of
wounded moon.
Adam Pietras (Barry Kant), 23 april 2024
---Living inside a Master-Piece
Nothing to say living inside a Master-Piece.
As I've been younger - I searched for existential police.
All is left to overlook and to smile
Some challenge zen for a while.
Angelic women believe in something - that's so far from my mind
Although I've become an indifferent kind.
For me? Precisely everything - can be so very nice
As I get my whiskey with ice.
I don't mean there is something too bad
It just looks as I am - of rather ironic clad.
---Regret
There is a little bit of hate in my wound.
Nobody knows how those muddy things
Come inside;
A spark from far away dives into the World
Though it's hard to love one's own dirt.
---With no Craft
Empty sadness as I laid
Though someone - needed me to stay;
And I used to comtemplate this subject:
With no Craft - I found myself an object.
So deeply pleased - as the Other enjoyed my fruits
So I stood up and worn my boots -
Let's take a mile or seven
Follow me - we'll go to Heaven...
Satish Verma, 22 april 2024
Can you foretell of the
death-like the hound― after
the loss of game?
Past my last poems I
will meet you one day
to settle the debts.
I was incomplete
in my wholeness. I will dissect
the words for bleeds.
sam53, 21 april 2024
czasami błąkam się po naszych pustych nocach
szukam ciebie między słowami pośród oddechów
wyobraźnią zaginam przestrzeń
w której spotykają się nasze usta oczy nosy
pozwalamy sobie na bliskość jak cieniom w zakamarkach piwnic
albo światłom które mnożą się z miłości
nie upominamy się o pocałunki w każdym wierszu
wystarczy że jesteśmy dla siebie
Satish Verma, 21 april 2024
You didn't want to
age, rediscovering,
pain of birth, to live.
To remain atheist
was better than many gods. You
belong to yourself.
Juxtaposed with
blank walls, a bohemian
draws image of sin.
Satish Verma, 20 april 2024
I tried to sleep
under the sun at night. From moon
to moon summoning the pains.
Someone wants to cut
the clouds. I was indebted to darkness.
Blue light comes to kiss me.
The witch-hazel wails.
Let the blood flow from the eyes
of crying earth. Do you listen?
Satish Verma, 19 april 2024
A forgotten truth
lands softly on the wet grass.
I had lost the words.
The moon was cut on
table to taste the honey of
towering love.
The hidden face
in womb of the earth smiles
in darkness of pain.
Satish Verma, 18 april 2024
I would be thinking
of you in dangerous journey.
Who was redeemer?
When tree eats
its own roots, I become
sad. What role I play?
Thoughts tremble.
I cannot stop you burning.
I weep with my God.
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