Satish Verma, 23 june 2023
You were casual
in making bed of thorns
to collect the blood!
Fearless, light combs
the dark hairs of earth to
feel masculinity.
You rise from the
mangroves to print pattern of
wounds on the limbs.
Satish Verma, 22 june 2023
How to repair the
heart? The petunias will
not listen to me.
Inverted funnels
allow the beetles to
land for honey.
Where the words end,
silence speaks of eternal
pain of treason.
Satish Verma, 20 june 2023
Between wolf and
vampire, you burn the
marrow of moon.
Carnivore. You
define the perfect surrender.
No peace as yet.
My father talks to
my son in sleep, to wear
an old hawthorn crown.
Satish Verma, 18 june 2023
You play bloody words
I am discovering myself
after you left.
A serpentine
history of love and hate,
hurting ourselves.
Want to see a blind.
Who will not ask my religion
my color and my creed.
Satish Verma, 17 june 2023
A fistful of scent,
I inhale the lingering
pain moving crescently.
What was your doubt?
The weak bones will not carry
some hidden truths.
The earth will stink,
of broken water. No new god
was going to appear.
Satish Verma, 16 june 2023
Speechless, I start
adoring you, separating
the milk and water.
You talk of divine
touch of agni of moon.
Who was sun's daughter?
Can you recite a
mantra to wake a sleeping
angel to hold light?
Satish Verma, 15 june 2023
A blood oath you
made stabbing the moon.
Will not wait for sun.
Never bled the light
in dark to watch your face
in gleaming tears.
Would you like to
sit under the bodhi tree
to take in Buddha?
Satish Verma, 13 june 2023
A blood oath you
made stabbing the moon.
Will not wait for sun.
Never bled the light
in dark to watch your face
in gleaming tears.
Would you like to
sit under the bodhi tree
to take in Buddha?
Satish Verma, 10 june 2023
A deathless shadow
follows us O god. Your pain
was bigger than me.
Each day bears a
witness of my love for dying
truth in your hands.
A damper brings fog
in eyes. I cannot read
your citations.
Satish Verma, 9 june 2023
Abdicating your
throne, O god, I am not
worthy of human being.
Has the man risen
from the salamander's leg
severed from body?
At the mercy of a
creator's path you will not
find peace at end.
Satish Verma, 8 june 2023
Like a hot cinder
on the black paper, makes
a hole in heart.
Your zodiac sign
will burn under the moon.
The other side cries.
The fair queen has
a scar on forehead. Third
eye was waning.
Satish Verma, 7 june 2023
It was scary to
listen to the sounds of
your glossy tresses.
To taste flavours
of your lips in return
for bleeds of poems.
The panther. He goes
a kill a day. Will change
legitimately?
Satish Verma, 6 june 2023
You filter time.
Time filters you.
I catch the words.
The empty bowl
of a fakir betrays the fabric
of life, without seeking.
Mid winter I will ask―
the moon not to freeze.
Some sounds you will not hear.
Tearing the fog, I
wanted to teach you the language
of pain, becoming cold.
Like meteor of
a melting star, you were moving
away faster than light.
Satish Verma, 5 june 2023
You did not give
space, for a random kiss.
Winter loss?
I will not find you
in spring. The buried roots
of a fallen tree, fail
to wake up.
Days pass dying.
A soft retreat from
commitments. Slow poisoning.
The empty house.
You should plow through the memories
of unlived in dreams.
There is no cue.
How will you bring sparrows
to breed on ventilators.
Satish Verma, 4 june 2023
Like hungry jaguar
I hunted you
in music of limbs.
The thrust played
a game of hide and seek
between the islands.
It should not have
happened like this. The covert
rowing. Sea never forgives.
The ache has
a continuity. The lost tribe
still wants to remain
untraced.
Time makes you strong.
One day you score a
unique myth.
Satish Verma, 3 june 2023
You swirl around
my poems to enter old nest.
I do not know how to pray.
I will backtrack
to find my footprints in
your glistening eyes.
To admire the purity
of flame, I taste red berries
of firethorn. You recite
a sacred hymn.
No name was needed
for unknown agony of your mind.
Neither you will muse
nor I will write.
Every December snow
becomes a shroud.
Satish Verma, 2 june 2023
You swirl around
my poems to enter old nest.
I do not know how to pray.
I will backtrack
to find my footprints in
your glistening eyes.
To admire the purity
of flame, I taste red berries
of firethorn. You recite
a sacred hymn.
No name was needed
for unknown agony of your mind.
Neither you will muse
nor I will write.
Every December snow
becomes a shroud.
Satish Verma, 1 june 2023
It is.
It was not.
The volcano was collapsing.
What was happening,
and what wouldn't happen.
I didn't want you to be
lost among my poems.
The window weeps.
Moon won't come to sit
on the palm tree in the
sight of a lonely pen.
Death comes on tiptoes
for the flamingo,
stranding in meditation.
A pack of wolves was waiting.
Who will pay
for speaking the truth?
Satish Verma, 30 may 2023
Drop for drop
moon bites. You were
ready to taste venom.
The honey prompts
to heal the wounds of
autopsy. Resuscitation
takes place.
Life sucks the peace―
dear god. Any other
place to busy the pains.
How to erase your
name from torn papers.
There is always a print.
It requires morning
breeze to stop the
scream.
Satish Verma, 29 may 2023
Will not find like you.
Why do you bring
god in every symphony?
Pain heightens the silence.
The soloist smiles.
Will you wear a night belt
and walk on the moon
to gather the footprints of
first crime?
All I know was, nothing
is pure like sands. It doesn't
want to become stones.
Do you want to stand against
them in metropolis?
A song for you. You
come again to smother the
burning poem.
Satish Verma, 28 may 2023
Between the hills
lies the secret of deep
valley. I love what was
a voiceless pain.
Die by me, if you
will, when I wouldn't
be there to see your mutation
intobutterfly.
Where the horizon
meets the moon, I will
place my shivering candle
to burn at both the ends
in a trench.
The destroyer sleeps
now in the nest of golden
eagle. One day he will
wake up to sharpen his
beak and talons.
Satish Verma, 27 may 2023
Moon was ready
for a swan dance
with clouds.
For a tied up
integrity, did you
need a collective silence?
Sun has not yet
risen as a drag queen,
to wakeup the people.
It was an ant
to uncover a face in dark
to show the curved lips,
Apples have ripened.
Wind shakes the tree.
before the whispers start.
Satish Verma, 25 may 2023
Your breath
a prayer in water, when
vision fails.
Life will treat you
in beauty, when you were
ready to meet future.
Like touching god's
feet, to smear the lunar's
dust on fore heat.
The journey never
ends. Bright stars beckon to
you, but you will not
find Miranda.
The fever was mystical.
In delirium you will recite
a poem.
Satish Verma, 24 may 2023
So normal, the poverty
makes you rich.
At the same time, you cry.
Not needed to be
adored, I was my own slave.
The long journey suffers.
The big shark makes
a dive. You fall like ginger―
bread in mouth of kismet.
Satish Verma, 23 may 2023
Dying with minutes
in dark, when the sun
prepares to leave.
You cannot kill
history. It had happened
on the skin of freaks.
At midnight, I will give
a call to unseen, unheard
egoist, to forget anger.
Satish Verma, 22 may 2023
Unsung, the crazed,
follows an ailing Buddha―
moving in dark.
Not relegionism.
A black sea floods the light.
The bulls were ready.
Ephemeral myths.
You want to move the rock
on the sand dunes.
Satish Verma, 20 may 2023
The soft pain lashes
in a bizarre manner. You
become me and I
become you.
The veil cracks
on your face, to reveal
the contours, like
Saturn without rings.
Just like delphinium,
speaking truth― A hummingbird
dives in your lake
of viola.
Now the world has
changed I smell a Greek
tragedy to say that, we
have suffered too.
Satish Verma, 19 may 2023
Like clones, your hands
embrace, winding up
the duty of fists―
in half-light.
Was your love
primordial? I would ask
myself, accepting the tears
from your red eyes.
I will borrow your
faults. Want to become
human. The defeat in
your hands was rewarding.
The rivals bloom,
without water of eyes.
O daisy, I was run over
by the stamping of clouds.
Give me the speed of light.
Satish Verma, 18 may 2023
I was hurt,
I speak.
Out of modesty,
will write the unspoken stance.
Overview is mine
I have not read you
cohesively. Your vacant eyes,
your trembling lips.
To know the truth
of meaningless nuances, to listen
the gain of sea, watching
the length and depth of water.
Moonlight was aging
where the shadows dance,
in circle to trap the sun,
for a noble sacrifice.
Bondinggoes for mortgage.
Satish Verma, 16 may 2023
Spider weaves the
net. You walk in the named―
trap of honesty.
I have stopped
looking at stars, after the
moon bit me in dark.
Who was dying for a
sip of hawthorn today
in the bright sunlight?
Satish Verma, 15 may 2023
Like a forgotten
love child, are you same as
I left you sleeping?
A creeper grows on
your face to steal the tears.
Why karma had failed?
At least a small kiss
of revival of dreams could
have saved the moon!
Satish Verma, 14 may 2023
Love hours.
When you cover your
face with hands,
light dims.
I enter your interocular
space, to understand the
truth ofdissent.
I am learning
from you about the black
theory. You wanted to―
take titanic steps
in small feet.
Human facts.
I cannot breathe.
You possess the power of
manipulation.
A bird doesn't know.
Satish Verma, 13 may 2023
Leave me by me.
I was an onlooker in
wilderness of knees.
Primal truth is dead
I search peacemakers
of nowheres in vain.
Watch my loneliness.
A bronze elephant stands
still in dream traffic.
Satish Verma, 11 may 2023
It were not you
at the end of poem. Something
of moon had died.
Time has not come
to intervene in parting
of lips turning blue.
You will not change,
in offering the drink of
stunning Venus flytrap.
Satish Verma, 10 may 2023
December moon
and you, not to blink for a
while in the shadow.
Salt angel, you will
make my eyes dry― after the
glitter of tears.
What is the full sign
of the brave robbery when
it is stinging dark?
Satish Verma, 7 may 2023
Honesty. Was it the
sickness of mind? Ask the
spirit of water.
Honour the blue
goddess with grey hair in
silent grieving.
Spurn the moon and
come to me to celebrate
alien reverie.
Satish Verma, 6 may 2023
I thought we knew
each other by our shadows.
Stratosphere laughs.
Inappropriate,
when you touch the moon
in torrential rain.
You pay a price
to listen to Beethoven.
You become blind.
steve, 5 may 2023
I've made every mistake, that one possibly could...
Every bad decision, instead of what I should,
My life is about regrets, and things I didn't say...
If I could "do it all again", it wouldn't be this way,
Many years have passed, since you left this town...
And countless beers I've put away, to keep you're memory down,
But I still drive by you're old house, to see if you are there...
I haven't met a person yet, with you I could compare,
I should have told you how I felt, so many years ago...
And never let you walk away, from things you didn't know,
But you will never know of, the love I feel for you...
And I could never forget, you're eyes of sapphire blue,
I don't know why I held back, or let you walk away...
I only know it's one regret, that I feel everyday,
If only I could turn back time, there's one thing I won't do...
For I would change everything, except my love for you.
Satish Verma, 4 may 2023
In stasis, time
was ready to abandon you,
I suffer intensely.
I didn't want to
hear my own voice. Cathartic,
I was beside myself.
Creating shock waves,
wanted to speak to water
to freeze in eyes.
Satish Verma, 3 may 2023
I dreamed of you.
Otherworldly. Blue and tender.
Not my pain anymore.
Did you pray for me
and asked to write a last
poem for sake of veil?
A bird takes, sand
bath, before jumps on a pyre
to prove fidelity.
Satish Verma, 2 may 2023
Like woodpecker
someone knocks at door
to deliver acorns.
Were it you after
resurrection to pay back
the debt of half-love?
Door will remain open
to let in the known killer
of beautiful sin.
Satish Verma, 1 may 2023
Light the candle, I
fed creepy in the grey
night of terror.
Fear overtakes.
Heartbeats reach crescendo.
Is it end of charm?
The riot begins
in dim moonlight. Who burns
the coat on the hills.
Satish Verma, 30 april 2023
Why bewildered?
There is always something
to say to unknown,
You wouldn't believe.
Where violence ends,
God is born.
The hummingbird
croons a note to bring
back, spirit of hymn.
Satish Verma, 29 april 2023
It will not happen
again, the eye contact
with swaying moon.
Smoke was rising
from heaps of dead leaves
from distant garden.
You become a past
in the hands of slaughterer.
Ethos plays game.
Satish Verma, 28 april 2023
Shy from finding
the depth of your being?
I was walking on the
cobbled shadows.
Like thinking of
afterlife, when you were
preparing legacy of black moon.
Who would not do it?
Would you go to
the fire temple to know
the age of dying god?
Space widens between the eyes.
The grid cannot
hide the deepening chasm.
Your musing shifts. A pen,
the paper and words assemble.
Satish Verma, 27 april 2023
You were lost
in this brutal world
I was a failed truth.
Exotic your heart
still sings for the future
of awakening.
Very old, very pained
were our wounds.
Man was rising every night.
Why were you not
present at sunset, when
twilight was burning
in moon?
You need a gift
of grave to stay cool
when the sky was burning?
Satish Verma, 26 april 2023
Choosing the dusk
before dawn to halt the
flowers beheading.
It wriggles like
snake, the time. No wait
between life and death.
Take me to deep
sea of pain. I will never
count falling stars.
Satish Verma, 25 april 2023
One scripts one's
own doom, standing at the
bank of a dried river.
Bone china reflects
the destiny of ‘being' in war
of grounded ships.
Limbs take you back
to the ruins of young night
outside of moon.
Satish Verma, 23 april 2023
I don't hear
I don't speak.
Only the ink flows-
without words, waiting
for birth mother.
Water breaks.
A poem is born.
Satish Verma, 22 april 2023
In lost island,
water and boat, I
will never know you.
A volley of stings.
I bleed inside, without
single drop falling out.
There will be no
tiara, to put on the head
of pain.
Play on flute,
before the sunset. I
want to invite fireflies.
The numbers don't
agree. War continues for
the red sea of tears.
You won't reach
your abode alive.
Satish Verma, 21 april 2023
Was there a purpose
to wear mascara
and nestle in giant
clouds?
You scare me
holding the candle
burning at both ends.
What was the
confusion before jumping
from the bridge?
O moon, I always
loved the honey color
of your skin, before
collecting ashes.
Who had created this maze,
I will never know.
Satish Verma, 20 april 2023
The fear right
below your skin, festers.
I listen to hissing sound of
simmering muse.
Space between the
words suffers. There was
no meaning left by
unspoken ties.
The castle of dreams crumbles, brick
by brick, in the hands
of sleeping volcanoes.
You need a
snake charmer to sway
the beauty of crooked
smile of time.
I still watch the trap.
Satish Verma, 19 april 2023
Charging at the
huddled moon, palm
leaves release the
elixir.
I watch a beautiful
death dance, pouting
her lips,
very quiet.
Oh, precious pain,
come again. The
rock wants to
commit suicide.
My entreaty
will not reach the
heavenly bird, I want
to walk on holy sin.
Satish Verma, 18 april 2023
After you gave me a
split rupture,
there was a mirror pain.
The bruises get away
without mercy. A hand will
write reversely a poem.
You cannot erase
the stink, which comes from
the mouthless words.
And the triangle
will eat the floating bodies
of bloated dreams.
Who always chased
me with subtlety, when
hills were crumbling.
Moon becomes lunatic.
Satish Verma, 17 april 2023
You let go, of me
to wear the hawthorn's
crown, to probe, what I
wouldn't know.
In the ending was
beginning of a fragile
kiss of waning moon, before
the daffodils fall on ground.
I try to forget
the number of steps you
have not taken towards
the moment of enormity.
The laced wounds
prepare to make water
thin for the sleetof
salt water in red eyes.
Satish Verma, 16 april 2023
In soundless
landscape, I will meet the
ultimate, waking pain
of understanding.
Back and forth
pillars of strength would fall.
Nothing else will shock me.
Measureless I become.
Do you see a halo
around the moon? She was
the goddess of a
lost songbird.
I want to stop
thinking. I owe you the
holy truth. Life was
no more grainy.
Satish Verma, 15 april 2023
When I ask for
the innovation, you
lob the moon.
Glass and sand
in your eyes, melt into
kisses. There was no
other way.
You cannibalize my
poems, make a statuette
and wear the pendant.
You stone a wall
of paper. Why did it
carry the names of
failed gods?
You watch the stream
of tears feeding the red
poppies about to be
slaughtered.
Satish Verma, 13 april 2023
What you will not
say, after becoming cosy
with the moon in sleep walk?
Holding my hand,
you wanted to squeeze
time for the sake of fallen
star in the black sea
of ifs and buts.
The tears were
great solvent, when you
inhaled the fumes of
karma, to go high.
The seizure will
come again, wrapped in
golden shroud, against the
hope of suicide.
Meditation brings
sweet music.
Satish Verma, 12 april 2023
Black tree
feeds the blood root.
There will be no sonic
connectivity.
How could I love
you so, at moonrise?
Shall I say the watercolor
has been washed?
It was not the culture
and style of time. The
renaissance wants to extract
the rare price.
Crisp nouns would
take revenge on the
unuttered words. The sacred
ism was no more valid.
Let the clouds cover
the bleeding sky.
Satish Verma, 11 april 2023
Night was pregnant
with the moon.
The execution will follow.
An arrow finds
a path, which leads you
in fog of baby steps.
Adoration lived in
the narrow eyes of firefly.
The dark bush sways in
flightless arms.
Embrace of an
angel goes amorously
tense. Negation leaves a
deep wound.
There would be no exit―
of the trembling pain,
live on the flames.
Satish Verma, 8 april 2023
Hurting myself
in piecemeal to reach
your meanings.
Paradise lost―
for one day, when the makeup
goes in flames.
I will be in sea,
when the valley burns deep
and a Digambara
finds the truth.
The mob was arranged
in place. Wasps had very
thin waists, but stings
were sharp.
The smile was
venomous. You will not
live to see the slaughter.
Satish Verma, 7 april 2023
The freckles were
appearing on the face
of Venus―
Arms broken.
A man-eater was shot
dead, while feeding.
The reddened skin
invites a vespa. Sometimes
you love the stings.
You wait for
the sunsets, before the
Venus flytrap shuts.
Drifting on the
dust road, I start
searching my lost address.
How will you hear
my voice?
Satish Verma, 6 april 2023
The trauma will not go,
I will go to sea.
My lips reciting veda.
You hire the new currency
to buy a kiss of bodiless lover.
Sky offers the moon.
Infallible palm
spreads the leaves foe your
footfalls not to single
under the sun.
I speak wordlessly
you listen by eyes.
Mercy kissing comes
in vogue. You have increased
the surrender value
before the Agni.
Satish Verma, 5 april 2023
I am scared.
You are becoming human,
looking back at the
colored leaves falling in autumn.
Was your pain
ripened? And you bled
poems? Ah you were the―
first wooly animal!
Surreal. Dancing
with beautiful words to
entice the lies. To woo
the narcisstic mode.
Thought of dying
shimmers like a fish in silvery
water. I won't throw
the net in your eyes.
River will not drink
its water.
Satish Verma, 4 april 2023
Home coming
was not true. A character
remained unread.
What image was
holy? You walk barefoot
after worship to listen
the voices of earth.
The volcano weeps
for centuries, waking
the flames one day. What
were the questions
which had no answers.
A pink bandana
becomes the heartache
of moon. No star was
worthy of you.
The book wipes out the
new sermons.
Satish Verma, 2 april 2023
Will you break the
golden triangle, one day,
and come to river?
Time-lapse memory.
I will meet you midway to
hold your rough hand.
Do me a favor.
Write the other name of fire.
When you walk on the
sleepingvipers.
Can you push the
rock like Sisyphus after
refusing to color the night?
Rose is rose. Can
you commit for black petals
which will stay
in hot sun?
Andrzej Talarek, 1 april 2023
Biblia Tysiąclecia: Modlitwa oczernionego
Jan Kochanowski: W Tobie ja samym, Panie, człowiek smutny
Księga Psalmów dzisiejszych: Sędzią narodów, Panie, byłeś zawsze.
Sędzią narodów, Panie, byłeś zawsze.
Dziś tym daliśmy sędziom spraw sądzenie,
co za pieniądze wyroki łaskawsze
mogą nam wydać po przystępnej cenie.
Więc nie czekamy na Twe rozstrzygnięcia,
bo zbyt odległe, trudne do przyjęcia.
A prawa nasze, choć nienaturalne,
pisane krzykiem pod dyktando tłumu,
w konstrukcji swojej są akceptowalne
dla ludzi biernych, wyzbytych rozumu.
Myśli zaś skryte w słowach uładzonych,
policja pozna jak Ty, Nieskończony.
Czego przez spowiedź do Ciebie nie ślemy,
na świat krzyczymy miliardami bitów
i słowa w sercu, i nerkach mielemy,
aż wyjdzie papka ni grzechów, ni shitów.
Za złudną tarczą firewalla trwamy,
opiekę Twoją na przyszłość chowamy.
Choć bywa chwila, gdy jesteśmy sami
z czymś, co sumieniem ciągle nazywamy,
nie definiując, myśląc sloganami,
gdy z nagłym krzykiem nocą się zrywamy.
Gdy dobroczyńcę lub wroga wspomnimy,
obu skrzywdzonych, i się zawstydzimy.
I ciemność lepka staje przed oczami,
w sufit myśl chroma uderza jak kamień,
niby ptak nocą, bo nie ma Cię z nami,
a sędziom sądzić nie daliśmy sumień.
Chcemy słać apel do wyższej instancji,
rojąc na jawie wydumane racje.
A kiedy wreszcie sen nas ukołysze,
zapominamy rankiem nasze zmory.
One przed śmiercią zabiorą nam ciszę,
całego życia wskrzeszając upiory.
I nie zdążymy wyjść z grzechów gęstwiny,
by przed Twym sądem stanąć już bez winy.
Satish Verma, 1 april 2023
Sitting on a white
rose, the miniature god
writes the lines of life.
Inside animal implodes.
The dark blue blood has a
weird relationship
with broken limbs.
Dismembered,
I don't want to die again.
The bright Ariel claims
for the rebirth.
Was there a promise
to repair the flesh torn
out from the bones
of faith?
It is too much dark
here, I don't see your face.
Satish Verma, 31 march 2023
I am, because
you are not there.
In cold blood
you slice the moon
and drink the tears.
The forest path
opens for the shot
tigress. She will
survive.
A mysterious hand
picks up my name to
write a wounded
poem.
There was no war
between the gatherers
of blood-soaked shirts.
Will you come back
bone, flesh, heart?
Satish Verma, 30 march 2023
At life closing,
were you in peace
with your slips?
The weariness brings
a curse. You start
shredding.
Like a newfound
fossil egg, you kiss
the lost poem.
A dependent
wound stops hurting.
I bring a stoned version.
The moon and the
resurrected dream,
throw long shadows on lake.
My boat goes in flames.
Satish Verma, 29 march 2023
Your theme will
not endure the momentous
push. Stars are falling
one by one.
In row of skulls
time stands still, to revise
the angle of moon. Now
the words haunt. We are
in peace.
Will you embrace
the religion of trespassing
against rituals? You were
the creator, you were the destroyer.
Venus sleeps naked.
Talking of self, we
forget the nature of
vicious vipers. Can you play
with the flames of past?
Which of the god was not
a love child?
Satish Verma, 28 march 2023
Do not unveil the
wound of errors.
Let me in―
in your green eyes, where
the goddess weeps.
The terror changes
the polarity. You were in chains,
fighting the demons of sea.
Unlike moon, a star
plunges in valley of tears.
Who will measure
the depth of fall, from the
edge of life? Time has the
wings of golden eagle. It
flies on the peaks of thoughts.
And the merciless
gray of dementia wipes
out the words.
Satish Verma, 27 march 2023
Cannot undo, the
headless leap of faith.
It was not the answer.
A thousand moon
I will wait for the calamity, when
you come back with empty hands.
Playing Mozart,
I discover myself in the
jungle of antlers.
The grief survives
eternally. I arrange all
the words to spell correctly,
a white death.
The black tree
stumbles on pale moon.
The angel will not
open the door.
Andrzej Talarek, 26 march 2023
Biblia Tysiąclecia: Błaganie o litość
Jan Kochanowski: Czasu gniewu i czasu swej zapalczywości
Księga Psalmów Dzisiejszych: Panie, Ty byłeś zawsze Bogiem miłosierdzia
Psalm cierpiącego
Panie, Ty byłeś zawsze Bogiem miłosierdzia,
więc proszę, sądź me winy tak jak dobry sędzia,
jednak dopiero kiedy żądze w sobie zduszę.
Dziś, proszę, ulecz ciało, a w przyszłości duszę.
Cierpienie jest bezsensem, bo cierpią niewinni
pospołu z grzesznikami, chociaż nie powinni.
Nie jest karą za grzechy, jak było przez wieki,
nie naprawia człowieka, czyni go kalekim.
Ono zasłania Boga, im większe, tym bardziej,
jak zło, które je rodzi dla ludzi w pogardzie.
Zmniejsz je przynajmniej tyle, by było cię widać
i modlitwa do Pana mogła siły przydać.
Spraw, by z kroplówką łaska spływała pomału,
wtedy prośby do Ciebie dadzą zdrowie ciału,
żebym w cierpieniu był tym, który Ciebie łaknie,
bo któż Cię będzie chwalił, gdy życia zabraknie?
O cóż dziś więcej prosić, Panie mego ducha,
któryś jęków o zdrowie przodków naszych słuchał,
kiedy jesteśmy syci, chociaż w bólu niemi,
nie wierząc, że królestwo Twe będzie na Ziemi?
Co jeszcze możesz zrobić, Boże, Stworzycielu
Kosmosu co poraża, dla ludzi tak wielu,
którym ckliwy obrazek do wierzenia starczy,
gdy ich prośby do Ciebie powrócą na tarczy?
Satish Verma, 26 march 2023
Mauve detachment;
I wanted a short placenta.
The dust wants
to eat me. My legs give―
away, when sun goes
blind.
I will offer you
my dreams to nestle
in paws of destiny.
Don't walk on the
hot sands. They are going
to roast my poems.
I smell your pines
I drink your cones
Lake was inviting
the boat.
Satish Verma, 25 march 2023
A hard drink of
heartache, and you blink.
It was very difficult
to understand blues.
In black sky
you whimper and ask
only for the love to happen between
the sweaty hands.
The stings have
a job to do. They breed the
wasps amidst us. So your
signs bleed.
The night terrors
return. I touch the toxic
insignia. Such pure flesh
will kiss the poem.
Andrzej Talarek, 24 march 2023
Biblia Tysiąclecia: Modlitwa poranna o utrzymanie się na drodze Bożej
Jan Kochanowski: Przypuść, Panie, w uszy swoje
Księga Psalmów dzisiejszych: Psalm krzywdzonego dziecka
Psalm krzywdzonego dziecka
Usłysz, Panie, głos z Twej ziemi.
Niewyraźny. Jakby niemi
próbowali coś powiedzieć.
To, co, Boże, musisz wiedzieć.
Słuch masz, Panie, doskonały,
co przenika nawet skały.
Więc głos dziecka krzywdzonego
słyszysz. Odwróć się do niego.
Ono w hańbie swej zamknięte
jak w skorupce z ziemi świętej.
Z niewinności swej obdarte,
w swym mniemaniu na proch starte.
Milczy za swym wstydem skryte,
za grzech wini siebie przy tym.
I jest samo. Nie pomoże
nikt mu oprócz ciebie, Boże.
Tylko wie, że nienawidzi
za te słowa i się wstydzi:
Bóg cię kocha, ja cię kocham,
musisz wierzyć i nie szlochać.
Wierz, bo nikt ci nie uwierzy,
że z twej strony prawda leży.
Bóg łaskawy dla nas dwoje,
niepotrzebne niepokoje.
Nie wie, że niemiła Bogu
jest nieprawość jego wrogów,
że Pan nienawidzi świni,
która, grzesząc, się nie wini.
I nienawiść je przeraża,
niemoc wokół je poraża,
obojętność je zabija,
kłamstwo, jak pętla na szyi.
A na szyje młyński kamień
dla przestępców. Panie, zamień
krzywdę dzieci w miłość Twoją.
Niech za siebie się nie boją.
Ześlij Boże Twoją zgubę
na opasłe karki lube.
Pokaż im swe obrzydzenie,
wypędź, gdzie jest świń pasienie.
Bo spiskują przeciw Tobie
krzywdząc nawet spoza grobu.
Sami są jak grób otwarty,
a ich język mówi czartem.
Osłoń słabych swoją tarczą.
Niech radości im dostarcza
Twa obecność, Panie, z nimi.
W niebie, ale też na ziemi.
Andrzej Talarek, 23 march 2023
Biblia Tysiąclecia: Modlitwa i napomnienie
Jan Kochanowski: Wzywam Cię, Boże, świadku mojej niewinności
Księga Psalmów dzisiejszych: Sprawiedliwość wymierzasz Boże w swej mądrości
Sprawiedliwość wymierzasz Boże w swej mądrości.
Proszę, wyjaśnij jednak moje wątpliwości:
gdy modlę się, lecz Ciebie w mych dłoniach nie czuję,
dźwigasz mnie z utrapienia, czy skrycie biczujesz?
Czy jesteś dla wierzących na ich zawołanie,
czy wciąż za tajemnicą ukrywasz się Panie?
Czy wyrzuty pod innych adresem rzucone,
mogę wspierać, żeś zawsze jest na mą obronę?
Jak wykazać wątpiącym lub tym co nie wierzą,
że oni też do Ciebie, jak i ja, należą,
że możesz im dopomóc przejść ciemną doliną,
bo iść z Tobą lżej będzie i w mroku nie zginą?
I że darów nie muszą ci składać ni hołdów,
bo wystarczy westchnienie i kropelka modłów
ze słów prostych sklejona, co wprost z serca płynie.
Boga wzruszy w niebiosach, w nicości nie zginie.
Ja zaś Cię chwalić mogę słowami najhojniej,
że moje szczęście w Tobie i sypiam spokojnie,
boś w życie wlał mi Boże tak wiele radości,
że bez niej w Twej winnicy bym musiał zagościć.
Satish Verma, 21 march 2023
You had big
violence in your bones.
I suffered. Dream merchants
were ready to violate.
Benevolence descended
to know the depth of anger
in the eyes of the primate.
Why skin had gone thick?
The trapped scream
of the buds waits in lul
before the storm. Roses were
going to explode on the altar.
Bride comes slowly.
She had a date with
the thinking god. There would be
no consumption.
Satish Verma, 20 march 2023
You were dressed up
to burn. Tears had memory
pure as gold.
The ache of standing
in flames of tongue, to wash
the hands and underbelly.
Where would you
find the green words ready
to weave the silk?
that was my poverty
to mine the glass and mercury.
There was no inside,
no outside.
Give me the fever
as hot as moon, when you
harvest the sun beams.
Satish Verma, 19 march 2023
Where blue meets the
red, I will bring moon to cross
you river of tears.
Thousand suns away
the pygmy god sleeps in thatched
hut, to feel the pain.
When you swim in my
eyes, I become an ocean
to drown the deity.
Satish Verma, 18 march 2023
Returning to past
you tend to remain all mum,
murmuring nothing.
Measuring speed
of light coming from my eyes
without spilling dark.
What burns up, ejects
the sparks on your shroud
of three parting words.
Satish Verma, 17 march 2023
Retrieve me, by my
voice, to stay at the pause
between wounded words.
Unopened scar
beams from the moon to heal
the breached faith.
You know, lips always
remember the kiss of sun
in raging snow.
Satish Verma, 16 march 2023
Why Buddha waits for
Yasodhra, to become sane
and atone a sin.
The time was catching
up. Like someone plucks a
narcissus for prayer.
Pink and white, the
cherry blossom in your eyes
cracks the asphalt.
Satish Verma, 15 march 2023
In blue dawn
pure truth will hinge on the
personal moons.
I was ready to tell
you all rumors to learn the
art of mimicry.
The air smells of the
masks. Not fakes. Skin dries
up to dew emboss prints.
Satish Verma, 14 march 2023
You talk of evil,
I become incendiary.
The name had power.
Unthinkable. You
fight the lurid details of
chopping off fingers.
How would you write
the opus of human slip
for seeking royalty?
Satish Verma, 13 march 2023
Mauled, with no
known crime. Autumn wanted
to take revenge.
God's will, not the brown
eye's dilemma, to suck the
venom of moon.
How long the struggle
will continue to understand
the color of blood?
Satish Verma, 12 march 2023
Snow and Sparks. Methane
burns. I will scramble for the
moon in dark woods.
The desires leave
the scars in dreams. I walk in
sleep to touch you.
Where the world was
going? You dismember the
frog's limbs. No rapes.
Satish Verma, 11 march 2023
Like sphinx I put up
before you, three questions.
What was in a name?
A bane? Deceptive
image of a sin? Don't
give me everblooms.
You give brief
answers. I should know them. I
am setting you free.
Satish Verma, 10 march 2023
A secret poem for
you, to forget myself lost on the
noiseless sea.
Of words. Reclining
Buddha in dilemma, to
wake, not to wake.
I was on voyage
to find the bliss of salt
in starvation.
Renato N. Mascardo, 8 march 2023
being my friend at 3am
i can’t
even imagine
please let me try what you
feel right now in this darkest hour
before
the break
of dawn being
so alone so short of
breath half reclined in bed so so
tired but
too tired
to sleep instead
my wheezes keep time with
the wall clock that keeps vigil as
best as
it can
conducting this
cacophony of pain
within and without rising and
falling
my tongue
nails skin eyeballs
nude scalp bowels all clamoring
to be
heard by
an audience
captive and one trying
to sort out and plan what still lies
ahead
too much
to learn way too
many steps that can be
taken detours to hurdle when
will all
this end
initials like
notes chirping around me
her2+ adc dfs pfs
leave me
alone
quiet my heart
the war proceeds recedes
the siege continues but i’m far from
alone
but in
this deep lagoon
of ennui in this the
coal black hour of the night please let
me live
an hour
or two of quiet
desperation so that i can
savor all the more another
new day//
renato
wednesday 8 march 2023
Satish Verma, 7 march 2023
How do I carry the
moon, wherever I go to search
you between the clouds.
Gradually, thoughts
become homeless. Can't catch
the wheezing flies.
Blaming self, the trunk
dies inside. No sap will
rise. No glue will roll.
Satish Verma, 6 march 2023
I want you to call
me, when my shirt was stainless
and sun was rising.
The monarch lands on
my book to read the verse―
meant for the moon.
The empty mind spins.
Script was totally burnt-out in
my voicelessness.
Satish Verma, 5 march 2023
The first stitch
of the poem. Painless words.
There was no song.
The lull before the
blast. Buddha bends to pick up
the tangerines.
Deep orange-red
sun rises to name the sin.
There was no saint.
Satish Verma, 4 march 2023
Love blooms in hush,
like cranberry. It heals soul,
half moon, half stings.
Gives you wisdom
to singe without flames
in month October.
Woe was done for,
when the snow comes in
to cover the scars.
Satish Verma, 3 march 2023
At dusk, I will smear
your lips to color the moons.
Acts like Midas touch.
The dunes tend to
shift from the shivering hands,
when the knuckles bend.
The scope expands.
You will walk on periphery.
I will tow the line.
Renato N. Mascardo, 2 march 2023
occasional sputniks
fellow
traveler each
one of us was is and will
be from birth to our last gasp
whether
we choose
to or not the
elisions we build merge
and consume parts of us with
pleasure
and pain
companions in
hurt and healing love and
hate being around even when
ignored
off and
on together
we have become casual
sputniks yet we persist or at
least
one of
us who reaches out
to keep the sputnik flame
burning til our discrete journeys
dissolve//
renato
wednesday 1 mar 2023
Satish Verma, 1 march 2023
The fire thoughts rise,
when the stinging stubble burns
on your green face.
It doesn't smell, the
forked tongue. Taste was
sweet on the skin.
A crimson twilight
narrates the glory of sun,
inviting the moon.
Satish Verma, 27 february 2023
Would you remove
your mask once, and come to
me as you are?
Don't throw the pebbles
to skin my pain. The wound bleeds,
to quote the past.
I ask myself to
be quiet in this moon time.
Saint was turning red.
Satish Verma, 26 february 2023
When Rilke stops
whispering, I search
the cut flowers of gladioluses.
You don't speak
at all, blinking your eyes
anxiously. There was no
spate of quivering lips.
The exodus of long
breaths had the lethality.
Words come and go like,
a bunch of bees.
My problem was,
how to meet my beautiful
end.
The culture, the
wisdom would wait for
the angels.
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