No Mystery here
when I shut my eyes, I see millions of stars not bright stars they only bring light onto themselves static and unblinkingly.
On the bottom half of what I see, is a mist called ennui, of stars have been consumed by the nothingness that is self-consuming.
The enormous expanse called the Universe is life forms, but not alive, lack awareness, and exist only to fill the emptiness the clerics call heaven.
The stillness is absolute, human drama does not echo in the vastness of non-life, called peace mankind refers to as death.
Categories:
unblinkingly, absence, angst, courage,
Form: ABC
Parenthood
My father hung in the belfry
so many called him father, but the old woman in the house where I lived
said he was my father.
When I met Mother superior, her eyes softened for a moment.
The hanging was an accident.
At his funereal, the bishop attended to stop rumours of suicide.
The old woman and I watched the proceeding at a far distance.
I did see the face of the prioress in the window
unblinkingly stern, but in the afternoon glow,
she had tears in the corner of her eyes.
The old woman cackled and said, she gave you to me to look after.
I had a silver cross on my bedside table.
The old woman said it was a gift in case I wanted to become a cleric.
Categories:
unblinkingly, age, best friend, courage,
Form: Blank verse
She is my roly-poly play toy,
ambassador of goodwill and joy.
Wrapped in the softest ebony fur,
she loves to sit in my lap and purr.
She's the gentlest of Nature's creatures,
I love her fury feline features.
Sometimes, it seems all she wants to do,
is to unblinkingly stare at you.
She catches flies right out of the air,
and feels like a cuddly teddy bear.
When I leave, she meows with alarm,
I don't mind; it's all part of her charm.
She weighs twenty to twenty-five pounds
and stealthily does her nightly rounds.
Categories:
unblinkingly, 10th grade, 9th grade,
Form: Rhyme
She stares, unblinkingly, into the abyss. Wanting to think but unable to truly feel.
She sits. Contemplating love. Hers. For whom does her heart belong to? Herself. Everyone. No one. What is love? A feeling that blooms inside, not unlike a Corpse flower. Reeking of sensation. Emotions. Happiness. Sadness. Contentedness. She wants more. Beautiful in the uniqueness. More uncommon than one would think.
She knows. She is scared. She is fearless. Is she really? Equally fearing all. Everything can bring one down.
She loves him. She loves her. In a world of exceptions, will she be just another?
As she stares, she begins to understand. A metaphor. For what?
Categories:
unblinkingly, depression, fear, how i
Form: Free verse
I inhale vapors spiced by Aurora’s deep tang and her sweet, rose kiss,
on such nameless mornings all my ghosts combine,
folding into neatly pressed layers of gossamer sheets
offering the refuge of a cocoon before a world that stares.
I stare back…
Deep within the ruins of my crumbling synapses
sleeps a once magnificent theatre, a retired smile generator.
but now on this nameless morning it awakens and starts rolling
a classical favorite, my sacred memories distorted on the big screen:
it was a mosaic yet an orchestra,
honey soaked melodies, the sweetest notes sparkled like gems embedded
in the stained glass wings of butterflies drifting up and down in the wind
like staircase symbols on classical sheet music
And I chased after the music,
pursued the butterflies to the end of the field
only to grasp the remnants of a dissolving symphony.
I inhale the vapors of a nameless morning,
wrapped in the robes of all my ghosts combined,
reflecting on how long until those ghosts leave me
to cross the grave disconnect between me and tinkling butterflies
to stand unblinkingly alongside a world that stares.
I stare back.
Categories:
unblinkingly, angst, depression, growing up,
Form: I do not know?
Let’s stare
unblinkingly at
startling visions of
beauty too grandiose
to comprehend.
Let’s look deep into
each other’s souls
and observe truths,
and not pretend.
Let’s turn our gazes
skyward, aspire to
be limitless,
unerr’d by the SUN.
Let’s envision what
was, what is, what
might be and what is
yet to become.
I once looked into
the bottom of your
heart, saw love, and
thought it a
beautiful place.
I observed it once
again and found only
the pitch darkness
of an abyss and the
unloving cold of
outer space.
‘Tis a horrible
thing when honest
eyes hear nothing
but lies.
How horrible is a
knowledge of seeing
when it benefits not
the eyes…
I look at you and
sometimes I see
love, sometimes I
see pieces,
sometimes I see
unforgiving cold
But worst of all,
sometimes I see
nothing at all and
am blind!
Categories:
unblinkingly, gothic, love, sorrow,
Form: Free verse
Tangled clues
with sensuous sparring;
the incense was rising from the blue moon.
It was body’s integrity,
a lender was demanding
when lust had become prodigal.
Behind the thin veil, red eyes
stared unblinkingly
at the portrait of a nude zero.
When the light was nodding from a crown
the darkness spat on the feet
which walked on the roses.
A single thorn will not be envious
of the licking fingers.
A drop of blood will tell the truth.
Satish Verma
Categories:
unblinkingly, art
Form: I do not know?
Tangled clues
with sensuous sparring;
the incense was rising from the blue moon.
It was body’s integrity,
a lender was demanding
when lust had become prodigal.
Behind the thin veil, red eyes
stared unblinkingly
at the portrait of a nude zero.
When the light was nodding from a crown
the darkness spat on the feet
which walked on the roses.
A single thorn will not be envious
of the licking fingers.
A drop of blood will tell the truth.
Satish Verma
Categories:
unblinkingly, adventure, allegory, angst, animals,
Form: I do not know?