Short Upturns Poems

realms defence launches
dice, reckless soul hoarder
upturns death hourglass...

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ducks cluck
     bulls buck
     gnus munch
     bugs buzz
surf 
lulls
   as shrubs bud;
dusk
suns
     cummulus    
     unfurl
curls
uncurl
     tumult
     upturns
as
crush
sucumbs

a FP source inspired list...

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It is the truth which 
never was. After many 
deaths I will come to you 
to repeal my verses.

The festering earth was 
making the rains green, 
to suck the dry sands 
thrown by the angry winds.

The soul upturns the body. 
You will crawl in a tunnel 
to come out for sedation 
accepting the karma.

A non-acceptance of the
straitjacket. Let the anxiety
rise like a beast.


Satish Verma...

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Don’t walk by,pretend not to see

Outside in the cold is no place to be

Whistle to yourself,think glad it’s not me

No-one can escape their destiny.

 

No-one can prepare for all trials of life

One day it is bliss the next day is strife

Taking one day at a time is now my life.

 

Optimism is the only way out

Upturns are ahead I have no doubt

Thinking to myself I am down not out....

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Resistance burns pink in fondled captures,
Bushes wet in slippery raptures,
Music swells thumping the golden gate head,
Acoustic beats resound with tender threads.

Desires bonded within slow rhythmic speeds,  
Upturns notes and resonating strings,
Sharp random musical yearns turn to cry;
Longing to jump in for the bumpy ride?  

Entwined bodies learn the melody song;
Quake and quiver like a multi-struck prong....

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Crossing the burning barriers,
you take a fatal jump.
Brazenly, but giving little away.

Long shadows of ethnic clouds
were eroding the sun. Feeling the
wet lips you rub you sweaty
palms in vain.

Haunted, you would like to
kill the ghosts. You pull a silken
cord. A silver urn upturns the
ashes of your past.

Each truth walks without legs.
You are still incomplete. The
self-portrait will never hang
on the wall.


Satish Verma...

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As mauve of autumn waves her velvet cloak
Each treetop, each leaf upturns a  glazed hue:
That  between dusk and morn, the winds evoke
A  heartbeat tempo of evening’s debut--
Oblivious to chills with  beams on oak
Parading their grandeur , regal in view,
Then once again through October – brushed sky
Where  Northern lights mindlessly fail to die !



Broken Wings’ Form O- Only One Contest
Theme: Oblivious ( 4-syl count)  5/10/2017...

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