poetry

poetry
Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 11 august 2020

Venom And Stings

Behind the iron mask, with
unsteady hands, I
separate the conjoined thoughts
and start greening.

I will ask, the god
after a chilling spectacle
of undying freeze, that
don't give me the bliss,
but only truth.

No mercy, no sympathy.
I will walk on the spiked
road to reach you in your own
sepulcher, to become you
and suffer.

Who needs eternity
to grieve for dying lights?
Darkness has its holiness.At least
you won't see the beasts in action.

O god, let the blue sky
open like an abyss to embrace
the fallen baby.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 10 august 2020

Unpretending

In search of lost
memory, there was no regret
of losing any achievement.
A Buddha was ready
to walk away.

Zebra stripes become
evident at sunset.
Was there an eye in the eye,
the smell in the smell,
of an infant sea?

There will be no
ache retrieval. I am dancing
around the fire, reversing
a sin. The ugly and weird
life has become hypocrtical.

A smoke shapes your preference.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 9 august 2020

An Acid Attack

Sometimes I would
look at the lame moon. For
whom you were faltering?

Perhaps, I was a
mirror. You trip, fall
and become a raw wound.

One day I will
touch you with my ragged
hands, to heal my knife.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 8 august 2020

New Family

To be honest, there
was no poem today.
A refusal to celebrate
the loss of truth in me.

The weather is climbing.
They have assembled to-
disgorge the peace efforts.
War was in our blood.

The great divide of
guillotines and blessed swords,
to behead or not to behead
the god.

There was very little good
in the evil designs.We have
logic and logistic problems.
You do not want a friend, only enemies.

The rebellion, the treason,
the betrayals, all were meant
to upgrade your divinity.
let us revert back to animal status.

The bread, land and water are one.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 7 august 2020

The Intense Pain

It was unbashed invasion,
and then you were paraded naked.

The marrow was depressed.
I will not be able to collect you.

Lost in thoughts, I
am losing you in every book.

There was no striving,
to be called by any name, any monument.

Hyperplasia. The rot has set in
Would you come to greet the death one day?

There was a speaking ache.
Word was me, I was the tongue.

The turgid lips still remember.
Once the sting was here to take a kiss.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 6 august 2020

Looming Large

The art of losing the
core-hurts, standing in deepest
mood.
You want to see, what your
prefrontal cortex thinks.

The suffering: the debris
fall on the eyes.
Vast Greenland melts.
The terror strikes. You
inherit the barren land.

I start talking with the
spirits. In the shoe box, lies the
past. The water was rising
in eyes. The scent of moon
sometimes misses the earth.

The butterflies, sometimes
come, declare the deadline
for garden prayers.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 5 august 2020

My China Broke

There was an endless war
between you and me O god
from time immemorial, in the
desert zone.

The scorching harsh light
of sun has spread the veins
of earth with burning oil wells.

Green pods will not open the round eyes.

Now the sky was crying.
Songbirds are gone.The thick-skulled
were trying to find the scapegoats.

The king lies.Wants
to kill the night's moons.How much
big mouth was your's? I wanted
to serve my land.There were
no more waters, which
carried the flight of blue dreams.

Just because, I wanted to tell you
it was not easy to live any more.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 4 august 2020

Not The God

A fathomless abyss,
you feel the power of wordless going.

Sperms leave,
when you smell your own blood.

The roasted pig,
or degenerating rhyme.

What would be your pick;
the dopamine?
The serotonin,
the medulla?

The radar will not follow you.
You are alone.
A tiny dot moving on the screen of life.

The morality was at risk,
with no window.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 2 august 2020

Many Headed Snake

The spat between the hydra
and sea,
was the end of perfect relationship.

Now an unqualified, unknowing-
will take on the depression.

Were you feeling liberated? I would ask the moment.

Let us delete
the faces and go to war
without limbs.

This was a summer afternoon.
The books are in cauldron-

and you are praying alone.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 1 august 2020

The Earthen Death

Spurned,
staring into a void-
for a door,
burning a sage.

Wearing a veil to ward off
the curse.

You start the baby steps
getting there, near the noose,
weighing the planks.

Now you are breathing fast,
getting a hit, counting
the hymns.

The corrupt booms
rise and fall.
An overt withdrawal
from the bet, to sacrifice the bliss.

White lilies washed,
in tears, let down the shawls.
You can see the holy vice.


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