Life

The Face

Folder: 
Tales and Fables

The saddest eyes in a world of gray

Full of hurt, and the weakest strength

Windows to a tortured brain

Courting madness to look sane

 

I see the darkness around your face

That you try to hide away

You've lost the will to live again

Subject to recurring pain

 

The wrinkles flow around your features

Like roiled and cracked imprints of creatures

Growing old while in your prime

Extenuate the charm of time

 

The mouth is small and bares it's teeth

Silent when it ought to speak

Chewing when it ought to stay

Cursing the good days away

 

Stepping back

Now I see

It's simply a mirror

Reflecting me...

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The Greatest Adventure

Folder: 
Love

A thousand miles away

And once upon a time

I'd run the whole wide world

To put your hand in mine

 

I've waited for my whole life

And can wait a little more

For you to come along,

Someone I can adore

 

I've crossed the strangest countries

And weathered the wildest seas

Just to see your wondrous face

And fall upon my knees

 

I've ventured across the planet

It's tundras, deserts, and trees

But the greatest adventure of my life

Is: would you marry me?

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Just something light and fun

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Chaste Energy

Folder: 
Satish Verma

Let it be,
you don't engage in dispute
with me, to make us complete
and whole.

Sharp stings leave
my skin singed. Barehanded
I will fight with a
hollowed tiger.

A dark fear still hangs
on the milked mind. The tunnel
was unlit. You wanted
to become a white god.

The dead wine spills
from the ceramics. With feet
of clay you run very fast
to catch your shadow.

One day you will
walk in, to take revenge
on kismet and blend with me.

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The Animal Inside

Folder: 
Satish Verma

It is a
chilled embrace,
separated by distance.
Why the grief has brought us together?

The time ejects
you― from your hot niche.
You smell black. The apples rot.
Nigella. The love-in-a-mist
was gone.

The history will not
forgive me. Leaving your horse
in battlefront. Going for a
moon. O god― I was trying to
stop the bleed.

You climb again
the steps to meet the beast
of the jungle. Don't measure
the faith. I will wait for
resurrection.

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Fewa in A Mug of Coffee

A moment on the Cyber Café at Fewa Lake

                                               

1.

In the Mug of the Fewa Lake

Reflecting the pure blueness of the sky

With the fluttering of the Fishtail

My eyes sparkle with

The taste of organic coffee

That chills my throat

By the tranquil and serene Fishtail

My whole heart at ease

In a mug of coffee.

                                               

2.

Faraway in the foothill

A heavenly village

Of the stone houses in row

From the black slated rooftops

Pours the rains of golden rays

By the blushing evening

My tender lips taste

The beauty of village green

Into mellifluous nectar

In a mug of coffee.

                                               

3.

From the field of greenery

Resonates the incredible laughter

Of the village girls

With the flocks of sheep

Back to their village homes 

Reveals their enticing beauties

This dusky moment creates

The heartthrob of the village

As an allegory of folk song  

In a mug of coffee.

         

4.

On the west side of Fewa Lake

In harmony with the Eve

A charming couple, newly married

Inebriated in ardor and fervor

Cruises on a wooden boat

Into the waters of the Fewa lake

With dancing rudders itch

The ripple and surge of

Foamy and bubbly love

In a mug of coffee.


5

Around the Annapurna range

Tiny airplanes

Like the white butterflies

Fluttering in the air 

The corneas of the eyes

Kiss the tops of the Himalayas

In the Annapurna ranges

Perceive the gesture with

Miracle and marvel

In a mug of coffee. 


6

In the lucid and clear gloom

Before the breaking of dawn

The Eyes of the Sarangkot

Grasp the Himalaya ranges

Glowing like the blaze  

Of the golden mountains

My beholding eyes in awe!

As the sun rises up the East

The Himalayas resume

Its splendor into silvery beauty

In a mug of coffee.


7

Like the fairy in Fairy tales

With imitated wings

My beloved glides high

From the lofty height of Sarankot

Her eyes scribble the poetry –

Serenity of Fewa,

Tranquility of Fishtail

Vivacity of Pokhara,

The visitors in bliss

On the verge of Fewa lake I’m

Waiting for her to land

The metaphor tastes sugary

In a mug of coffee.


8

The Raniban hills

In the south of the Fewa lake 

My fatigued legs

Ascend the stone paths

To the top of the Raniban hill

The Raniban Resort

Silence of nowhere

Quiet, still and calm

As if living in another planet

With hot frothy black coffee

In a mug of coffee.


9.

Hanging from the sky

Thrives atop the Raniban

The blooming Garden

Enjoying the amazing Evening,

The unannounced rain shower

The essence of my body  

So cool and weary,

Desires the tepid and balmy                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                

Black coffee that springs into  

The warmth over my body  

In a mug of coffee.


10

From the top of the resort

My eyes glimpse beneath 

Serene and calm Mug of Fewa lake

Tranquil and quite Sarankot

Emerald green Raniban

Surroundings of

So many hilltops

Of green and greeneries

My body enlightens itself too

Into hill of greenery

As the sky darkens

Intense black is the coffee

In a mug of coffee.


11

All my belonging left

In a city lodge,

Only me and my beloved 

Only with unspoken word

Like the simile and metaphor

My poetry of love

Warm embrace

In a lone room

Of the Raniban resort

The essence of passion spills over

In a mug of coffee.

*

 

 

My Selfie

Before the dawn ripens,

My beloved wakes up.

By her side I’m still roused

In the bemused dream.

 

The fragrance of her hairs

Itched my placid nostril.

The cool breath of the morn

Unruffled the gist of my body

 

The thin seam of my skin

Sore by depth of the night.

Breathed into life again.

           

The luscious lips of bygone day

Kissed the juicy lips of the day

The imagery of my poetry

Blush her lips in velvety glow.

 

Out of the window

Of my room of passion

The sunbird whistles.

The tree with ripe fruits

Plunges to the earth

Dispersing the fine words

Of my poetry scribbled.

 

In the terrace between

In and out of the moment,

Me and my beloved

Rest on the day to come,

In the flashes of sun

Just out of the East

 

I snap a selfie –  my selfie

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Breakfast

The Poetry that I never created,

But the seconds of my day

                                                That I adored so much.

                                                Couldn’t grip the moments

                                                Of my day in my fists                                     

                                                As the iceberg of the day

                                                Set into water and spilled over

                                                From the seams of my fists.

 

                                                After my morning routine,

I’d befall at                                         `           

                                                The dining table of my kitchen,

For my everyday breakfast

                                                With a Mug of Coffee  

Or a Cup of Tea                                             

                                                Arising the whole fullness in                          

                                                The emptiness within me.

 

The morn spun another page

Of my erstwhile diary

With the deeds of that very day,

Too much absorbed I’d be in                              

Savoring the flavor in me

So that my time spilled out

Of my clenched fists

Might never be in futile.  

 

                                                *

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Not You. Not Me

Folder: 
Satish Verma

Wading into future,
why do you carry so many
names?

Will you forget me
wearing my watch?
You were the timer―

not the time. Trying
to unlock the mystery
of tongues.

Killers? Who says?
What about the songbirds?
The whistling dolphins?

Why you are misunderstood?
Why do you sin
on the name of deity?

You were not there
in crowd, when I fell down
and people went running over me.

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Scuttling

Folder: 
Satish Verma

Enfant terrible.
I disown myself,
and try to follow my
occult intution.

Crossing the magnetic
field, I become neutral.
You will have to
collect my tears.

There will be no anniversary
of the funeral,
I will die imperfectly.

Failed to kiss the uninviting
throat of the knife. It
went straight into
my unread anthology.

Your smile will chase me
like a black spider. Its lethal
venom was painless.

Black and blue, if
I could perspire in the
freezing snow of the flames.

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