Short Somatic Poems

Somatic vespers
the rush of time on our hands 
blind absyrations...

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limbs prostrate and reach —
soul’s somatic form agrees
           to remember God

                          2/9/2018...

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Ache
Hurt
Twinge
Unpleasant
A noxious stimulus 
Injuries 
Illnesses
Emotional
Physical
Mental
Psychological 
Spiritual
Visceral
Acute 
Somatic
Chronic
Suffering 
Nociceptive...

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When light will not
enter the cove,
water breaks in.
	
He jumped to death
with his book in his hands.
The silence starts speaking.

What was this brand
of homegrown belief ?
Truth has been punished.

How big was the murder ?
Realization comes very late.
The path to violence-

was through god. The
somatic victory gets
a gruesome reward.


Satish Verma...

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Absent-minded, automatic
cyclic, circle, systematic
psycho, symptom, sick, somatic
spill the words right out my mouth.

Never-ending, contin-u-ous,
flowing, flapping, super-fluous,
lewd and lavish, misconstrued this
wretchedness which runs right out.



(have you ever been talking nervously to someone realizing at the same time that you're saying too much and should stop but can't???)...

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That perfect web of pure deceit
Harsh words lying bold at her feet
Her eyes so cold, freezing hearts
Verbal darts fling to the street 

Yet in that rash ill mannered state
Her words somehow fail to relate
Hence  she picks from a la carte
That psycho somatic soul mate

In due time and some recompence
There is that change, current events
That swollen look, the baby mart
She dares not  get out much since


is a form I made up.  aaba ccbc ddbd...

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"Pain", you know nothing of pain as I lay in a puddle of tears saturating me in 
woe, so woe am I, face down in the earth that birthed me, so I fly not, dream not, 
yet I sigh sitting in mime watching the masker ade wishing for omega, ripping 
legs off insects that pass squeezing every tear out, in there I lay somatic to 
emotion that poured the liquid from windows of perception, here I fly not, dream 
not, yet I sigh lost in this puddle of woe for woe am I....

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Here I am
Base of spine enmeshed with
earth ruddy like my cheeks and
bloodshot eyes
feet--firmly planted
take root where home is,

where nourishment, like a crimson bag of waters, is.
Humble, for my 
somatic vessel has its origins
on this very orb Gravity has pinned me to,
like an amanita to forest floor.

Palming a bit of red dust and
I am animal and palpable
no different from
the cardinal flying overhead,
the pepper-scented geranium,
the garnet embedded in clay....

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