Short Unclenched Poems

an unclenched fist
unresisting
love’s gist is this

13-March-2023...

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an unclenched fist
we resist not
love’s gist is this

06-March-2023...

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sunshine and southwind
finally off couch duty
i’ve dovetailed enough

8/20/2020...

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open heart and unclenched fist
there being no to do list
each emote distilled by love
invokes God’s grace from above...

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Her lap was full of mischief, joy, mirth, love, hope, inspiration
She unclenched her gown, and they turned into stars
Floating into the ether, surrounding the planet
She was the dream spreader and she was good at her job....

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We encounter resistance
challenging soul's blissful stance
and in doing so we learn
with tranquil eye to discern.

Ripples arise as ordained
but let's not by them be stained,
distanced from outcomes, love drenched,
warm embrace and fist unclenched.

16-October-2022...

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Simply know this, we’re God essence 
Body, an instrument 
We’re eternal divine presence
Oh lama, be content

Open heart, unclenched fist
Joyous, cease to resist
Becoming a bliss mist 

Bliss the love kiss
Simply know this

21-December-2021
Quietus ...

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Once fear erased, we surrender
Granting love pulse consent
Bliss the prize, divine does render 
Hastening soul’s ascent

Open heart, unclenched fist
On ceasing to resist
We become a bliss mist

No longer fazed
Once fear erased

10-December-2021
Quietus ...

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An unclenched fist and open heart
The way we live our life
Knowing all souls one, none apart
We’re free from narrow strife

Content the way things are
Although we do not spar
We’ve slowly come afar

No to do list
An unclenched fist

16-January-2022
Quietus ...

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We wish to reach out, to assist 
It’s our reflex instinct
An open heart and unclenched fist
Our soul is by love inked

We do face rejection
But there’s no dejection
Love shifts not direction

Though others may doubt
We wish to reach out

04-December-2021
Quietus ...

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One day,
I will walk out of my wounds
to stand before the scriptures 
and kneel before the fire.

Why,
did I wait for the sun to rise
in fractured stasis of dark moon ?
My smiling mate ?

The rapturous beating of chest
by unclenched buds of shame,
after you slept with flame,
embroiled.

Licking the underexposed
gems of sins.


Satish Verma...

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Pause before action and after action pause,
reviewing first the play of cause and effect,
double checking whether it obeys love’s laws,
doing at all times, as conscience does direct
and if this be our practice, in time heart thaws,
erasing from our soul, vibrations suspect.
Thus with an open heart and an unclenched fist,
invoking grace, we’re by Divine Mother kissed....

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I feel the beads rolling 
Traversing 
Dripping in the dull quiet 
Hands quaking, unclenched 
An empty thought, daily 
The dry, dense air, my lungs frozen in True Terror 
for what? 
An eternal shade is perched casually 
upon my windowsill, 
the prospect of doubt. 
To consider the intangible 
is to 
is 
The question is answered 
What is to be, but me? 
Ponder the Unknown...

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Throwing the wreath 
across the river
after the canal rapture ?
Does it look eerie ?
Yes it was spine-chilling
to see. The band went on
to play:
‘nearer to island’.

There was a pause.
Then a question.
The black space was done for.
The hatching. A plot ?
Upstaging a snowstorm
falling in someone’s lap
with white roses.

In cracked dry mud
an unclenched fist
deconstructs a map.


Satish Verma...

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How pristine is our silence,
strangled by thought violence,
unless we’re in witness mode,
bliss suffused, heart our abode?

When we thus do disappear,
bliss tingles begin to spear 
each cell of mind-body form,
with magnetic currents warm.

Transmuted by love, all’s well.
No desires remain to quell.
That that remains, a bliss mist,
open heart and unclenched fist.

12-April-2022...

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Winter walks away 
through spring mud 
and melting snow, 
face weighted in frown, 
Napoleon fists unclenched 
in humiliating retreat, 
his Grande Armee of cold, 
ice and wind 
dying on their feet 
utterly depleted 
never to fully recover 

in truth, 
Winter was once 
Emperor, 
outflanking Autumn, 
outsmarting snowplows, 
outraging motorists, 
and quite possibly 
overestimating himself...

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Loosen up a bit,
that head and heart fit
in cauldron of love,
working hand in glove.

Immersed in worship, 
with love our flagship,
once our fist’s unclenched,
heart becomes bliss drenched.

We ascend with ease, 
on choosing release,
from patterns of old
glued in ego’s mould.

For God to appear,
relinquish each fear
and gently align
under His love sign.

08-August-2022...

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Magnetised palms and crown blissful,
conspire to make our heart feel full,
drenched in an ethereal mist,
propelled by a mystical pull.

Staid silence has no to do list,
so childlike heart does not resist 
rapture within our heart new found,
that requires but an unclenched fist.

Awareness sans thought is not bound
to fears and desires that did hound
and so innocence invokes grace,
becoming light on holy ground....

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having surrendered, we allowed
God’s bliss tempest to rise
as we are consumed by the flame
that that never was dies

ego disappears, soul remains
free from fetters of mind
we are he we set out to seek
blissful, loving and kind

all doings are done without us
because we don’t exist 
the truth is known when we display
open heart, unclenched fist

nothing’s lost, inner light’s reclaimed
we now know who we are
we were asleep, now we’re awake 
shining like the North Star...

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When moon was found on water
sky came down with unclenched fist,
too proud to accept the defeat.

Footprints of a giant will not leave
the broken landscape, of the virgin garden
where roses died in a row in storm.

There were no absolutes in good and bad
I have started talking to trees to shed
their blooms, winter was coming in blue eyes.

My ship was able to dodge the icebergs
wringing the waves from your face;
lake heaved a sigh of relief in glided death.



Satish Verma...

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When moon was found on water
sky came down with unclenched fist,
too proud to accept the defeat.

Footprints of a giant will not leave
the broken landscape, of the virgin garden
where roses died in a row in storm.

There were no absolutes in good and bad
I have started talking to trees to shed
their blooms, winter was coming in blue eyes.

My ship was able to dodge the icebergs
wringing the waves from your face;
lake heaved a sigh of relief in glided death.



Satish Verma...

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