# #betrayal #life #forgiveness #suffering #sadness #pain #mistakes #madness #poetry #Dillon #Dark #love

Dilemma

Folder: 
Satish Verma

There was the hunger 
and suicide. 
In favor of my brutal truth 
or virtue of my failure, 
I do not want any comments on my trauma. 
Morality has a dubious equation 
with power, provoking my anger. 

The days were full of abandoned kilns. 
No more shaping of containers 
in which one can put the moon, 
and honey and roses. 
Everything was turning brown 
with infinite, sulphur smelling teeth 
ready to bite into golden flesh. 

Convicts behind the walls were playing 
with mirrors to throw the light on slick 
towers. Death was laughing, waiting on the trees, 
eating black berries. 
And I was forced to taste the blood of sky 
with sodium – 
in sanctum sanctorum.

Suicide Note

Folder: 
Satish Verma

One day you will arrive. 
Night will enter in your pores, 
in your bones, 
like a baby trapped in a borewell, 
crying, striking, 
thumping. 

On each table, salt moaned 
for a classical taste. 
A pink moon was smothered 
in a virgin bed. 
Death walked in a sensual style. 

A black discharge continued 
from the areolae. 
Botox failed to uplift 
the sagging breasts. 
A thallium capsule broke on tongue. 

There was no suicide note.

A flowers poem.

Fly Fly Fly over and Over,

Flower to Flower , 

Oh beautiful bee.

One flower will catch you though 

It itsn't match you.

 

This flower isn't clever 

But wanna be with you forever

This flower is a liar

But wanna be your lover.

Stay for sometime before

you fly to another.

 

This flower will wither,

Untill dont let you go to another

Before you leave,it let you

Take all its flavour and 

Brighten your glamour.

 

Bee, fly flower to flower,

You'll gonna admire 

For its differrent colour. But 

It'll be the same crazy flower.

OUR HEARTS

Folder: 
poems

I have been without you for so long,
I just wish everything wouldn't have went so wrong,
Sitting in the airplane wishing I was already home,
I couldn't help but write you another poem,

The day that we were both created must have been a very similar day,
Because we are so much a like together we could never stay,
But there are a few things that make us so far apart,
The biggest one that I see is the size of our heart,
you see mine is too kind and giving,
and yours is more about your free spirited living,
Both are really pretty inside,
But together they just simply colide,
But before we had time figure this out,
Loving you forever is all mine could dream about,
Now you have pushed me so far away,
By your side is the most difficult place I have ever tried to stay,
Even though your all I can think about every hour of my life,
It saddens me to know you will never be my beautiful wife,
If I could make one wish come true,
It would be to spend eternity with you.

ETERNITY

Folder: 
poems

We have been apart for what seems like eternity,
If I had just one wish it would be for you to love me,
My heart has never ending sorrow,
I'm always wondering if I will see you tomorrow,
Sometimes when your near me I forget about all the pain,
Then I have to take you home and my world becomes dark and full of rain,
Every day I pray and pray that God will lead you back to me to stay,
But my prayers seem to go unheard,
Because your heart never says a word,
When we are together it seems you are a million miles away,
And you never seem to have much to say,
It never used to be that way,
You always wanted me in your arms,
And made me promise that it would always be that way,
I would have thought by now my tears would be empty and dry,
But when we're apart it seems all I can do is cry,
I hope someday you will see,
That there is nothing more important than you being with me,
I told you when this first started that if I loved you it would be forever,
You said that you felt the same way,
But look at us today,
Apparently we don't love the same way......

>

Paradigms Of Progress

Folder: 
Satish Verma

Becoming something from anything 
was a great bliss of paradigm. 
I take a dip in anonymity. 

You will never know 
where you start a rough patch 
on the road? 

A prehistoric site could not outlive 
the humiliation of proximity to hate. 
Violence chewed the dust. 

My knees give way to anguish of morality: 
horror of captivity of dawn. 
The eyes are going to collapse in endless night. 

Tapping of kernel in hard shell of truth bothers me, 
like a mountain dew under the stone. 
I will destroy the anxiety of grass. 

Death of desire may take place 
Fragrance still devastates the moon.

The Tear Of Things

Folder: 
Satish Verma

The panther goes for the neck only. 
A body trembles on the stairs. 
Scarred bones are strewn around in 
the broad day light. 

I sometimes hear a wailing sound. 
Here lies the scarf, the coat, the shoes. 
A nation is rambling in dark 
woods. Faces have become stones. 

No longer, the illustrious suffering will help. 
How to judge the verdict? 
Defence is proving the guilt, 
and desert shouts a single 
name. 
How many meanings should be thrown 
for one answer? 
The tears. Are they not sufficient 
to give the depth of immensity?

Love & Pain

Folder: 
Satish Verma

Perhaps you know, 

that you do not know, 

the moment of truth is here, 

and we are at the cross roads. 

 

Night is without a cloud 

and crescent moon is questioning a star. 

Ghost of strayed peace 

has slided back in dark. 

Pure chemistry of love is boiling. 

 

Planting the tender flowers on lips 

I find nothing. I think I will go 

for a new lover. 

Strawberry was your choice, 

but I always craved blue berries. 

Pulpy red and blue black were teeth apart. 

 

Your eyes are unreadable, 

a watery grave of pain. 

Something impossible should happen 

Poetry is waiting for symbiosis.

 

The Redundant

Folder: 
Satish Verma

In a temple without god, 
They performed a cryptcastration on a colossus, 
targeting a total annihilation, 
and liquidation of a beautiful saga. 
And then, layer by layer unspeakable pain was released. 

Nobody looked at my red eyes. 
Half dead, half alive, groaning, spurting, dumb, dishevelled. 
I was shouting, running in the dark alley, 
the legendary mountain has collapsed. 
From the cocoons come out skeletons. 
Not true, not true, they were crying in unison. 

Archaeopteryx without apron looks scary, 
Let’s move to a different showcase 
see the birth of a Caesar. How it rises from 
the womb of democracy? How the thaw comes in a glacier? 

The eyes of a tyrant sometimes look gloomy. 
Is it possible to start a bonfire of lover’s coat in the chair? 
Cast off the milkteeth and start from void? 
Stretching the boundaries of death and immortality? 
I am terribly confused and burned out. 

The astral bodies sometimes look so good to me, 
faraway from this ugly world. 
At least they shine in their own light. 
But we were always busy counting our awards 
of gold thread, earned by dark strategies, 
to make other feel small and ashamed! 

You were talking, of self inflicting injuries 
was a way of life, 
with some people to purify their souls. 
But I was wondering about soulless people. 
How much they were pollulted and blackened 
inside their lungs? 

Strange it appears to talk about spirituality 
in a slum of poor thinkers 
where we were living beyond death.