Grammar
Only the love-birds will know
it was time of inquisition.
There was a lot of prodding in
the neighbourhood.
A voice without sound
was resenting with guilt-virginity
and the bell tolls
for a zero hour.
The entrusted trust was
still moving off the transparency.
Was it not a weird night?
The newly hatched babies,
jutting out their necks
from their clay homes were
to know the roots of verbs.
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
How I Wish The Bell Tolls For Me
for whom the bell tolls?
i ask that
it must toll for me,
but the bell never really
toll for me,
always, it tolls for someone else,
a friend for 15 years
a relative close to the family,
a baby newly born in town,
a man conscious of his health,
the non-smoker and non-drinker alike,
the successful politician,
the wife of an expatriate,
the rich gambler, oh, the bell tolls for all of them
and there were banquets and city lights
and eulogies
and expensive garments of the priest
i wish the bell tolls for me,
but who am i to really say?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Bell Tolls
The bell tolls not to alarm us
about a break of war
The bell tolls not to announce
the funeral of a great magician
The bell tolls not for classes
to start the school-year calendar.
But it is ringing for you and me
to bend our knees,
To intercede for our land
and for ourselves
The bell tolls to say a prayer
that opens up
avenues to God's love and mercy.
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
When the bell tolls
At times when I hear
a church bell that tolls,
I know that there
is more to life
than just living.
On a Sunday
the bell tolls almost endlessly,
(like a alarm clock)
before the service begins.
At times when I hear
a church bell that tolls,
it rings for a funeral
and I am glad
that I’m alive.
At a wedding
the bell sings a joyful song
and everyone smiles at each other
and wait for the bride to appear.
In the dead of night
the bell tolls lonely
no one cares about
the time that it keeps,
as sleep creeps deeper
into everybody’s soul.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Returning
You come home, sitting on my shoulders.
I bid you farewell at door. Death tiptoes in dark
before looking at the bare hands. A new concept of
ending comes out from crozier. Uncoiling has stopped.
In loincloth a truth unravels the mystery of cells. A
warm transparency. You walk around objectively,
returning the gifts to birds, bees and aspens. It
was time not to put up excuses. The wings are tired
and wind was falling.
Let the dance of nothingness start!
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
One Runaway Religion
Ignite the barren clay, I need
some rare elements
to tie a thread to the moon.
Upstaging the sun.
Not aspirational he was stripped
to become radical
like the dark blood of a white soul.
Pentadactylous was losing the big toes
under the burning skies
of unmindful eyes. The system
was collapsing. One premature
innocence dies defore the guilt
was proved, in the howling night of terror.
He unrolls the thighs to show the stitched
corn. The seeds step out to prove
the adolescence of crime.
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Voice From The Mountain
Voice from the mountain
And a voice from the sea
Voice in my neighbourhood
And a voice calling me.
Tell me my friend my friend
Tell me with love
Where can it end it end
Voice from above.
The sound on the ocean wave
And the sound in the tree
Sound in a country lane
Say you can be free.
Tell me you crowd you crowd
Tell me again
Tell me out loud out loud
This sound is rain.
Tune from the hillside
And tune full of light
A flute in the morning
And a chime in the night.
I know the game again
I know the score
I know my name my name
But this tune is more.
Voice from the mountain
And voice from the sea
Voice from in my neighbourhood
And a voice calling me.
Tell me my friend my friend
Tell me with love
Where can it end it end
Voice from above.
song performed by by Nick Drake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Bodhisattava
For the sake of lake, I climbed
on the weeping hills
to see the other side of moon.
The precipice of hunger weighs heavily
on shoulders.
Capricious time moves inwardly,
Strikes at the chest.
I set free the love-birds.
Conflict of trees tramples the grass
All summer the smell of dry winds
was scorching tear drops.
Every word was crying.
Dark in my city
I am wandering alone in alleys
of hostile homes.
The collective guilt of the flesh
blazes the mind.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Collective Guilt
For the sake of lake, I climbed
on the weeping hills
to see the other side of moon.
The precipice of hunger weighs heavily
on shoulders.
Capricious time moves inwardly,
Strikes at the chest.
I set free the love-birds.
Conflict of trees tramples the grass
All summer the smell of dry winds
was scorching tear drops.
Every word was crying.
Dark in my city
I am wandering alone in alleys
of hostile homes.
The collective guilt of the flesh
blazes the mind.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Feel Of Sharing A God
It should not have happened
this way, or that way,
rendering breathing difficult
in the intense smoke of misunderstanding.
The granite wall between the doors!
You grope through a thicket of words
crossing the centuries of hate.
Sun, no sun settles for the hope
of a slain blankness, to properly
heave, a sigh after the childbirth of truth.
All the dead white bones, jutting out
from the ancestral incompleteness of
forgetfulness of man to accept gracefully
the suffering of neighbourhood. The very
feel of sharing a god.
You are what you are not
I am not, what I am.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Un - Me - Ing ‘i’
I want to shake them off,
weird thoughts,
like a swarm of bees,
buzzing, whining, aimed at nothing.
Want to write me off?
Loneliness. I
observe the hands of a watch
looks like they are not moving.
Time stands still.
Waits for me to move.
An atavistic ache.
Again I view the world.
Every body is making a sound without bending.
With dreams dead I step into emptiness
barefoot, to feel the earth.
Not going to quit,
free to kill my ghost
I move into sunlight.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Melting
Not moving, the words
had gone into inertia. The space was shrinking.
Only restlessness was there in buoyancy
ready to distort the sound of depth.
I am expanding in propriety,
in meaning.
Pure burning on flame of truth,
like a moth.
Listen to the guilt,
the denial to the stasis of soul.
The loneliness brings the touch
of unlimited falls.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Acoustics Are Not Working
Maimed, tortured for love of resistance
this night appears to be
without an end.
There was nothing to lose,
it was looking for some reason
to die on the side of a cloud
when the sickle moon was sailing.
Tomorrow a new lie will be born.
Even a suicide bomber
will be tossed around,
like a new coin.
Weaving a dress of skin and bones
in the little sky of so many
purple birds.
Acoustics are not working
walls have no doors.
By night only a torch will be moving.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Strange
All night November,
I was searching the vulnerable
lips after loosing you.
Now fingerless hands
were moving the sun-dial
away from light.
The shroud was heavy,
I would not breathe.
Give me a blue moon before dawn.
You cannot engage in
sudden withdrawl. I will
come back for a kiss.
The paper that leaves a wound,
I will not sign for the bread.
My hands had stopped trembling.
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Gray Dawn
Sudden onset of an insertion
going for a kill in bluish green valley.
Pretend as if you are dead
and start disintegrating.
Your poverty of words disconnects
you from cogitation and you start-
walking in sleep. Cannot reach
the breasts jutting out like pine cones -
dismantling the invasion. You start
manipulating the seeds. Fruits
are nowhere in sight. The risk is
grave crossing the borders of virginity.
Pure aching and one thousand moons.
I have not reached the gates of truth.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Predicament
Joined by the funeral, we sit down,
under the blue sky, fire watching, sequentialling
the processions. Ultimately one by one they come,
to dust, hands turned down. After close of the rainbow
there is an explosion and a transition
censored by stone age. They flee from the shrapnels
to swathe in bioluminence of death. The penury
makes a fanciest atrocity.
A pockmarked moon stands there to listen
the scandalized whispers of crulest legends
in century’s hopelessness, guilt’s bleeding.
You never chained the voice of booms. A god
mourns in fading light.
SATISH VERMA
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Perception
Lips of clay tend to bleed
my kisses.
And the distant moon treads
softly on the spent passion.
A private crimson
blunts the whiteness of moon.
The birds-
step out from the fog.
Last moments -
of the bell to announce
the schizophrenic flesh
sailing like snowflakes.
A primordial fear -
was destroying the profile of man.
Here it goes-
the spiritual enigma.
A blast
of stunned silence:
I am collecting pebbles
from the trees.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Yin-yang
A tremendous force moved them apart.
They started moving in opposite direction,
never to meet again.
Negativity of flight
took them to frightening heights.
Like the two peaks
temples apart.
First causality was grace.
Loaves of bread gave them carnal satisfaction.
But gravity was taking its toll,
like god moving from one body to another.
The lungs started drowning in rib case
gasping, panting. Father of all the mistakes
now promised to stop
the whole transparency. Life had become murkier.
Who is going to move the world
and resuscitate the renaissance
from our bones?
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Cracked Visit
The other sex was stapled,
I started unfolding the secret:
what was static and who was silent.
I searched, therefore I was lost
before the end of journey.
The stench of grafting was taking over.
The incendiary recce was carried out
to shut out the voice of the street
in the melting snow.
Lake will find the woods for disquieting
sleep of muse under the blue-lipped moon,
and I will face my night.
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Homecoming
The yellow beaked vultures were waiting.
A cloth bag contains the bleached
remains; his father.
Impeccable gift unmasked.
After the inferno, hydrants went dry. The guilt survives
the dispossession, pondering over the black dew
now covering the pink roses.
The illusion persists. Master is coming home.
jug was empty. A miracle will start
the kitchen. An infant cries in the backyard.
The windows were sleeping. Let the sun
stand outside. A yellow moon at night will
open the door.
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sound Of The Bell
Found a place where we can talk
I found a way to reach a little ground
Keep your castle in my sandbox
Build it up so we can burn it down
Anyway I love my man
Love to keep him spinning round and round
Keep him feeling love for my hand
Any way to turn him inside out
I dont wanna go down like the sunlight
I dont wanna go out like the moonlight
I dont wanna be found at the sound of the bell
The sound of the bell
The sound of the bell
Meet me up and down again
Every time is sweeter than the last
Once you get a taste of impact
Youre always hungry for the crash
I dont wanna go down like the sunlight
I dont wanna go out like the moonlight
I dont wanna be found at the sound of the bell
The sound of the bell
The sound of the bell
And this is everything
I have loved
Yeah, I have loved
Break...
My...
Heart...
Down, I dont wanna go down like the sunlight
I dont wanna go out like the moonlight
I dont wanna be found at the sound of the bell
The sound of the bell
The sound of the bell
I dont wanna go down like the sunlight
I dont wanna go out like the moonlight
I dont wanna be found at the sound of the bell
The sound of the bell
The sound of the bell
Yeah...
(I dont wanna be found in the sunshine
I dont wanna be dim like a night light
I dont wanna be down like the sunlight
I dont wanna go out like the moonlight...)
song performed by by Veruca Salt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!