Short Capitulation Poems

Capitulation 
death life pantomime struggles 
where we all belong...

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love is capitulation
encirclement of the king
impending checkmate ensures
surrender of self...

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Hope trumped last
  a prisoner of death

A final capitulation
  —devil’s ransom beset

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)...

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Hope trumped last…
  a prisoner of death

A final capitulation
  —devil’s ransom beset

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)...

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surrendering all
to the power of her love...
    he's free like a bird.



Date written: 04/04/2021...

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“If you can’t ever give up ~~
                                     Perhaps, try giving in!”

written February 26, 2022...

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Fame is 
Contingent 
On 
One of two 
Possibilities

Complete 
Rebellion
Or 
Absolute 
Capitulation

(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2016)...

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Oh love! you are winner 
                                 And no one else
                                But you are winner
                                  In all your trophies the pain is winner...

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Don't be afraid,
We have surpassed,
The high cliffs
Of climber's despair.
After the fall,
And the loss of it all,
The second chance
Is ripe to the touch.
From the residue
Of capitulation,
Emerges trust
Without any crust.
Just pure openness,
One day at a time,
After the fall
And the loss of it all....

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My starlight growing
Dimmer of passing moments
Beyond
Somewhere…further

As I realize myself
True nature of my existence
Reality
Fading…falling

Something brighter 
An explosion of illumination
Severe 
Closing…enveloped

Capitulation on my lips
Now drawn at hand
Instantaneous
Relit…in a life passing...

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Odyssey emerging
Like an awakening dream,
Capitulation to its beauty…
To what realistically seems,
A grasping route of anticipation,
Fervor, and all that’s supreme,
A grasping route of blindness,
Where desires stream...

Surmising, guising, a life
Visualized… 
Life is a chain of yearnings,
Where we all fantasize…...

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He who treats another with respect.
   He see another as God's own creation.
   Never downs another's reputation.
   He who treats another with respect.
   He bows to capitulation.
   Never to degradation.
   He who treats another with respect.
   He sees another as God's own creation.



             September 29, 2020
                 10pm PST...

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The itch to love 
and satiate pride
swallowed too long stifles
breath
without emancipation
A tragic capitulation to self

Pride, perhaps acerbic,
leaves morsels to ruminate
and loves to regurgitate
coy ceramic dalliances
and Venusian masquerades
Masked in smiles
And toxic

This love, 
These loose granite memories
Ductile innocents
And hasty lulls
These shining sunsets 
And supernovas
Must rest.
...

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.Just like me
Behave you rotten scoundrel
Out of my way I am your worst enemy capitulation
Prayers to Jesus why not
Ignoring threats to the salvation of my mind
I don't pretend
Though its like i live in Fantasy
I don't get even
The thought of revenge is the tyranny of oppose 
They combine to charcoal remnants of this worlds on fire
Beaten down,no  honor just thieves
Beaten down whats left of our home
Shout out it's our custom...

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When an embryo was growing in a petri dish
I said this is it my adieu
for I am now ready for a new journey of self denial
a skull in my lap
after the abdication of ancient fear
the eyes of buttercups poked with hot iron rods
a hoe breaking the neck of a bowed man
to humanize an ugly beast
my fragile hands make a cup to collect the light
of a fading sun to pour on the stillness
of the dream’s dark roaring
that’s how a pinned butterfly becomes
resigned for capitulation


SATISH VERMA...

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The fantasy begins behind closed eyes:

I am entering a Summer forrest
Verdant green and whimsical.... 
The fantasy breathes..breahtless laughter
Filling lush, unencumbered life,
And we become:

Desire.......Abduction... 
Resistance,
Seduction....
                     Capitulation.

Firm young bodies and enduring love,
Unending love...
With rich young men
Handsome into heartbreak
Reality...
Hopelessly devoted to the pleasures
Of pleasing me...

The very best Daydreams
Are always in 3-D......

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Most graffiti I have seen
Consists of tags or pictures.
Messages are therefore not
The commonest of fixtures.

Yet today, upon a wall
Not used to spray-paint inking,
Was “Sorry Mom” in boldest red,
Which really got me thinking.

Was it sarcastic or sincere?
Was guilt the motivation?
And would that mother ever see
Her child’s capitulation?

We can’t know what was in the mind 
Of who scrawled out each letter,
But I am sure a phone call
Would convey that thought much better....

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