I am a child again
I know no loss or gain
Oft oblivious of pain
Till I conscious regain.
Do I wake or sleep,
I see the stars weep
As they crackers peep,
Am I awake or asleep?
I giggle and lauugh at the sight
Of rockets of music Fountains bright
Alzmiers benumbs my plight
Yet I have heavenly insight.
No need of ball or satchel
My grandchildren play beetle
Climates hot or cold lethal
Our food comes from hotel.
Thunder lightning and rain
Sounds of toppling towers reign
Sky is filled with smoke and sign
Of corpses and mutilated mein.
Tear glands are dried up
Once I fell to get up
With ease I sat up
Fell me, I'll not get up.
I see my saviour's Rood
Crushing the Serpent's hood
With words of hope does He feed
Breaking not the bent Reed !
I go out in hood
My strength is not good
Wobbles the ground I stood
Is it second childhood ?
Categories:
benumbs, age,
Form: Free verse
Annihilated by a Poet who uses the Extreme Metaphorical Weapons for diabolical Destruction.
Pulverized by the Flow Of It, a Beam that's Historical, Deafens your motor skills so you are no longer able to articulate and correctly Function.
My mastery is Malevolent, my Intentions become Clear as I Recite my words, while whispering Incantations Directly into your Ear.
I cast onto thee a Remnant, words Mentions sinisterly Fear, I'll Ignite mysteries of Damnations Correctly and immensely Clear.
As so the Horrors of the Abhorrent Consumes every Thought, every Sensation Becomes horrifying and Utterly Unbearable.
Covered in Sores, Torrents Entombs this Plot, the Invasion Benumbs adorning Stuttering that you find absolutely Terrible.
Categories:
benumbs, angst,
Form: Rhyme
November is a month of frost and cold,
reminding us that winter's grip benumbs.
With slate-gray skies, and winds both harsh and bold,
she casts her spell on us as fall succumbs.
The long bleak curve of winter days is here.
Each day we greet the sun's receding pyre.
When snow and blowing gale become severe,
we long to feel a hearth's warm, burning fire.
And though, each frosty night is dark and long,
our thoughts are staid on spring, both green and fair.
Endure this dormant season with the throng.
Await idyllic days both warm and rare.
Each winter, as a season, adds its flow.
In time, it runs full course, and this we know.
Long, Gray Winter
Sonnet
Categories:
benumbs, change, earth, november, seasons,
Form: Sonnet
Abdicating the shadows;
totemic.
I return back to dig up the buried-
moon from the ruins of poetry.
It benumbs.
No response was coming from
cajoling the black secrets-
of time-cast.
A storm was raging in a pack
of emptiness. Like a dead fly
between the pages of skulls.
I couldn’t find the exact words.
The religion of wish-lists.
Can you find the end of desires ?
From thought to thought-
was there any vision ?
Satish Verma
Categories:
benumbs, art,
Form: ABC
Like
Broken thumbs
on jungle drums
the mind benumbs in time,
incessant beat
beneath the sheets
of pouring rain aligns
the monsoon with the swelling pain
of never going home again
I feel the rhythm in my brain
I'm soon to lose my mind
The cargo floats
on past the docks,
the vessel takes a thousand shocks,
the universe around us rocks,
we're waiting for a sign.
Some transient message
in the air,
some sanctifying that you care,
we've taken all that we can bear,
It's not that faith is blind,
It's just this everlasting night,
is filled with horrors
burning bright,
our hearts can't take another fright
or hope is left behind.
reach out a hand and help a friend,
out of the dark ,
where we have been,
it's been a year
since I fell in,
the choice therefore..............
is thine.
Categories:
benumbs, angst, universe,
Form: Rhyme