Short Disconnects Poems

dreamers
voiceless refugees
fragile
          imperfect...
with images
       to bring alive:
enduring 
            disconnects..
      voiced aloud
unread...

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EMOTION
suspended
  prominently
meditative
  ethereal
in style
seductive
  visions
in
secluded
 patinas

disconnects
 in balance
a sanctum
of spiritual
resonance

delicate
aspirants
 storm
ijtegrity
&
complicate...

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A distraught moon
takes a misstep
and goes behind the hill
to take a holy bath.

Disconnects
with a trespasser
and sends to night,
a bouquet of stars with muffled prayers.

Shades of lies haunt, in flames
of faith. A suicide bomber ploughs
through a playground, throwing the bits
of human pieces on nets.


Satish Verma...

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I love you 

Ding, cling, ting, the notifications bell rings 
Do I pick it up or put I down? 
The alluring sound resonates in my head. 
Do I control it, or does it control me? 
It connects us but also disconnects us. 
I couldn’t live without it, but it brings me so much pain. 
Ding, cling, ting, the notification bell rings. 

10/20/21...

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Trapped


Just like a butterfly 
wrapped tight,
her folded wings 
await the flight.
Cocooned, she fears 
what to expect
when from her safety, 
disconnects.
With wings of flight, 
she must escape
into a world 
of new landscape...


Sandra M. Haight

~NA~
Contest: Visualize, Scrutinize and Remark
Sponsor: Forever Malta
Judged: 03/16/2016
...

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Walking the straight path,
Tracks aligned, perfect symmetry.
Lifeless, soulless,
Limping in reality.

As an empty canister,
In the heart of a gale;
Swayed by every nudge, 
Trashed by every gush.

Within, that cunning confidence,
Deceiving blissfully. 
That senseless fool,
Believing indefinitely. 

Step by step
The soul disconnects.
This hollow frame,
Dissolving, decaying…losing the way.

-Titus Loh-

http://after-tim.blogspot.com...

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To find peace,
you break the coconut,
a ritual to dent
the dark night.

Amnesia disconnects 
your pronouns.
You do not remember 
your name.

A monkey or a fowl.
The existence was 
the same for your
unknown inheritance.

Want to collect the golden 
motif; from the 
old brick house, sans 
a real god, old brick house.

A straight line hangs 
from a roof, igniting the 
faith. There was no ghost 
no jinni.


Satish Verma...

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pain me



pain me
in
a
poem
every line
of
mine
disconnects me
here i am on this line
now look at me here
now here i am
here i am
me here
no
me
here
now
dare
time found my neck in a noise
every line i ever wrote grew an tooth
now we rest in the gallows hung loose
razor-toothed poems lacerate my back
blood curdling screams hollow
from
the
smokestacks
nostrils spew fire
mouth sewn through
the
flames
pain me
?...

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