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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 6 june 2018

The Sacred Revenge

Infamous in death.
You stop fighting─
with me. I will ask the dynasty,
Where was your enemy?

It was within you, he
said. Crawling in the dark─
poems. Will you invite
the monk for the atonement?

Spiritual? Between the
sentences, you fall asleep.
Green-crockery turn to a
naked statue, for comfort.

The black lips start
kissing the red hooks.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 5 june 2018

Mysterious

Grip loosening;
the lesser evil─

will liberate you─
from the nights terror.

The moon bleeds,
in your bed.

A raw wound─
unblinks in pain.

No words will speak
for the fallen icon.

The death has extracted
its price.

Black milk exudes
from the round breasts.

Sun was rising.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 4 june 2018

Zeitgeist

The auspicious death
in moonless night.
Anxiety meets the ultimate.

What was left now
to cultivate the kiss
of unknown. Everything

has been spread on the bed.
The knife, the heart and
the parting lips.

The purity was at stake.
Spiteful and maligned, you
tear off the tender drape.

The black silence
descends in the gash of the
memory. A white marble bleeds.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 3 june 2018

Stubbornness

It was spirit of the time.
The lethal trade of─
missiles, someone was sending free.

You collect the cachet
of bleak weather. The
roses were in bloom.

Trying to conceive the
buttercups in the blue─
frame of melancholia.

I err, and find myself
in sleep after the contact.
A genetic gratitude overwhelms.

You catch the stings
blindly. The other sin will
take care of itself in blood.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 2 june 2018

Descending Peace

After a hard day
a game-changing starts,
igniting the night.

You are buried
in stitches. The wounds
are devoid of blood.

Will you split the─
silence along the words?
There was no awareness now.

A persona
becomes a revolution. The streets
are painted red.

The monument
drifts. You wash the landscape
with moonlight.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 1 june 2018

Getting Nowhere

That was a pioneer,
lunatic moon,
and me an unwilling partner.

The panther leaps again.
I suffer from
stab to stab.

The giver, sucks,
in genocide.Adoration
becomes a scourge.

One malingerer
leads to another.
The healer was very sick.

My master was a fake
The book was empty
and the print was gone.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 30 may 2018

Blackened Seeds

A hot body
was a hymn to the night.

I will drink
the moonlight.

In December─
a poem? Words freeze

in full bloom. The
corona becomes blue.

A rose bud breached.
Beast was out.

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Renato N. Mascardo

Renato N. Mascardo, 30 may 2018

alternate landing

linguae ignes

legions
upon legions
of tongues of fire flew out
from the spirit in search of the
chosen

on that
Pentecost day
most found their marks in the
city of david except for
a squad

that lost
its bearings and
entered a roomful of
cooks in caesarea perching
on the

crowns of
bewildered men
these fiery tongues flamed
out and so the shish kebab
was born//

renato
tuesday 29 may 2018

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 29 may 2018

Humbling

I love you in poverty of
words;
when you are not seeking
anything.

A dusky strength, self-
deprecating,
holding forth the virtues of
self-denial.

What was the awareness of
a blind?
Of shadows of migrating birds
in moonlight?

Hold my extended arm. May
be you can fall,
looking without eyes in the depth
of the sea.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 28 may 2018

Graphics

Drunk at
midnight, playing with
moon squibs.
*
Hearing─
a nocturne, the spirit soars,
when you are drowned.
*
A galaxy
invites me for a night vigil.
Some elixir will rain.

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