Satish Verma, 25 lipca 2023
Someday I will
ask questions standing
in the deep forest.
Where the swarm
of words would go if―
the pen was broken and
you were hiding behind
the marigolds?
At last I was
looking for you with
minute details.
The silken touch of
your hand still burns
on my face.
Days don't change.
The pink symmetry was
a mirage.
Satish Verma, 24 lipca 2023
I was my own
slave to walk on rose
petals to feel
the kingdom.
Dishonesty was
at large. I will not shun the
truths of bitter lips.
No mineralization was
there in pure eyes.
You could sail on the frozen lake.
What a thousand
words won't do. I did it with
skin and bones.
A flower vase. Flawless.
You want to write
the name of unknown.
Satish Verma, 22 lipca 2023
I let you go
to meet the panther
in his den.
Gender invisible.
Still two souls were bound
to jump together
on the burning pyre.
A love unique.
Cavernous. Neither you come
out, nor I come in.
Life seeks the answer.
The hyacinth opens
the spike to reach your
sensitive lips. Who had
ignited the water?
Talking with dead,
gives some relief. The buzzing
in ears stops and you
listen a bird's song.
Satish Verma, 21 lipca 2023
Standing in dark storm,
not to turn back.
An imperial oath
breaks, I don't want to
take any foreward for
my departure.
Small feet in
tattered shoes will not
leave any footmarks, and
climb the sharp edge.
Any friend becomes
A bleeding wound. It was
better to seek an asylum
in smile of black moon..
The knitting must
start. There was a pause
in pain of giving away
my muse.
Satish Verma, 20 lipca 2023
In deep silence
my words float in your eyes,
past twilight.
I will stay in parlor
to watch a lazy moon.
A tarantula starts moving.
An ancient prayer
leaves the footprints on
the skin of dead song.
Let it be stolen
my peace, in the name of
a bitter fight with stars.
The spirit of thumb
to meet forefinger would
remain eternal.
Satish Verma, 19 lipca 2023
Less molecular
affinity exists in the breaths
of time gone by.
I will squeeze
my lips stitching the
borders of pain.
Brown salt was
taking the color of hails.
Knives were red.
You know the truth.
Religion covers the half-
burned candles.
Draped in shroud,
the untouched womb
picks up the priest.
Even the stars
go dim like orphans
of sky, searching god.
Satish Verma, 18 lipca 2023
After watching an honour
killing, moon slept
on the dirtroad.
Thinking about god
and blood game, I was
upset. I don't find any
difference.
The stings. Always
bleed my hands, when
I collect the honey
from your lips.
No memes. It
was factual. The darkness
feeds the mouth of sun.
It was an absolute bliss!
Satish Verma, 17 lipca 2023
Do you hear the
unheard voices of
violence? I ask myself.
The events change
with moon's faces. I tell
you and everyone.
The pain of forgetting, come
when you don't want to
forget. You were destroying
the unknown.
The history repeats
the solitude of glaciers.
Carbon of earthly fires
was burning the ice.
The collective strength
of legs crosses the river of
hate. We love after hurting
each other.
I pray, I beseech
to stop the voiceless suffering.
The horizon has no depth.
Satish Verma, 16 lipca 2023
Moon winks.
I collect darkness
to make sun.
I cannot see
your face in daylight
while hugging black
trees.
Everyday you fill
me with tears of unthinkable.
The silk slips from
my hands.
Will not hate
you ever, though you
disappear like a
fugitive moon.
I still walk
in woods to hear your
footfalls.
Satish Verma, 15 lipca 2023
Not the salt.
The water hurts.
The frostbite connects
the moment of break.
I will not write
any elegy.
Frivolity takes
away the rose
buds of moon
in dilemma.
Tracing a swastika,
did I ask for your long life?
This was the
oral death of soft
butterfly, who will jump
into bonfire.
You could have given me
a little star.
Regulamin | Polityka prywatności
Copyright © 2010 truml.com, korzystanie z serwisu oznacza akceptację regulaminu.
Poezja
Proza
Fotografia
Grafika
Wideo wiersz
Pocztówka
Dziennik
Książki
Handmade
