Short Disrobing Poems

Afterlife.
Naked, true.
We are reborn
By disrobing the disguise.
Unmasked....

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disrobing the fire
passionate pyrotechnics
silk satiation


©11/5/2019

Sexyku Poetry Contest...

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Blue Kimono

In blue kimono
combing her hair while I watch
detangles my mind,
innocent calming effect
before disrobing to rest....

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In autumn as trees disrobe
Pirouetting falling leaves
Reveal their hidden glamour 
Natures bare branch charm.

2nd October 2020
Writing Challenge - Dodoitsu - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France

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Disrobing the flesh of ancients
In a continuous hot pursuit

A growing embryo
Spreading into the ether
The ionized atmosphere 
With contant cosmic outpouring 

The last tenet
Of man's unbridled elite
Casting his instruments
Proding stardust for clues
Yet all analysis recedes
When a grand synthesis sweeps
A human life course
Forever resonating with the truth...

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Once verdant land, now dormant 

Scouring winds disrobing trees.

Patterns on the woodland floor, 

In tapestries of fallen leaves.

Squirrels readying for sleep

Gathering nuts, tending dreys

Little creatures line their nests

Anticipating winter days.

As autumn finally takes her leave

And winter dons the crown

The woods shall fall silent,

When snow lies on the ground....

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There was no need of a sharp knife
in Calvaria.
Night was fighting with the moon.

From a concealed canvas
I could find, galloping,
black horses were gone.

A duplicate key does not work
now. The lock had been
replaced on the door.

Stairs were climbing on my
stale body. The snowy peaks
will not melt in sun.

Disrobing the blue skin,
under a blue sky for blue moon:
unstoppable laughter.


Satish Verma...

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A felled tear reflects the rainbow.
I wait for the night.
Moon had promised an audience.

Yes, I will sit beside the moon,
will tell the woes of earth, uncomplaining:
the heat, the dust, the life needles

and expressionless faces of trembling
angels. The heroes were disrobing and
attacking the pyramids of undoing.

I sweat and reel in chilly mornings.
A primitive instinct takes over the
nightmare. The spoons become the swords.


SATISH VERMA...

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Cold odd keys to lost cities glisten
as spikes of torment test the frigid
cold fish hands feeding ropes
into the winds biting kiss, 
teeth gnashed against themselves.
Hanging on for life 
Men in shirts of frozen plaid
disrobing for a touch of longing, 
belonging to a certain tribe.
Whether they acknowledge it or not 
they are each a star within the field.
A leaf, a blade, a patch of shade
within the black.
Each one forever fighting
to remain, 
or to get back....

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disrobing 
for unveiling
layered space,
slow pace
of the current
within present,
cognised
but not sized,
beholding thus
all at once
in virgin astonishment 
childlike wonderment 
the entwining
then merging
into the mist
by ceasing to resist,
we thus
feel the pulse
of silence
in innocence,
moment to moment
rising bliss quotient 
vivifies
electrifies
screen of awareness 
of singular consciousness 
undefined & unnamed
pure & unstained

08-November-2020...

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Come and meet me in chamber of death
where the tempest comes every night.

I start disrobing the anger
to find the eye of the moon.

Where do I get that ink that 
writes an unwritten poem on water
of eyes when the ship was
burning after a rare landing.

Come and meet me in sleep of an infant.

It was time to start a dialogue
with golden death sitting on the 
greed of man. The lips were extracting
the other honey from frozen moon.

Come and meet me in merciless sun.         


Satish Verma...

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