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	Satish Verma
	PROFILE About me Friends (3) Poetry (3973)

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Satish Verma, 14 december 2017

The Fabrics

A steep drowning
in traffic of curves-
of legitimate sin.

It was a supergame
of exotica. Witchcraft
was playing with light-

years. Are you still
hosting the life? In
cracks and crevices of pain?

Very methodical. You were
devouring the death to
become immortal. Were

you serious about bount-
eous harvest? Your alma mater,
where you wrote your first poem.

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Satish Verma, 13 december 2017

A Bitter Fruit

To undo, the rare
appearance of a god;
scouring the water, before the
sun, divides the land.

What was the worth
of a ritual, around the fallen virtues?
The salt lake threw up
the broken genes.

The swirling sand covers
the boat, stranded on the beach.
A tempest is waited upon. The
gestures carry a message.

No authority.
I do not want to corrupt myself.
There was a narrow path
leading to the pink eyes.

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Satish Verma, 12 december 2017

Explicitly

The pixels refuse to leave
the screen. There was a
defiance, unheard so far.

Will not misspeak about
the rape! Was it not a murder
of the white goddess in light?

Are you going to shut a
pink flame, smouldering
in the vicious grip of greed?

The skinny-dip in boiling
cauldron of hate? What
was left now of humor?

Walking on the lake water
retrieving your youth? Was
it worth your grand wasted life?

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Satish Verma, 10 december 2017

A Phalange

Your stretched nerves
move, like a reptile
in a dance;
for the evolution of sexuality.

The exodus was a stunt
playing with fire.
I will hide nothing.
I was a cloud within a dot.

Unknowing the fall, I
seek, the failure, to climb
again on strange words
to find the underlying meaning of pain.

You begin exploring
the hills after the unexplained
apartheid, after the bloodbath
of the golden peacocks.

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Satish Verma, 9 december 2017

Muddy Depth

In between the scars
where was the frame?
With artichoke, you were
dismentaling the ethos.

Giving a suspended
death sentence to cadence
of love. You know what
you did not know, about life.

Hauntingly ethical? You
do not want to become a sensual
father, releasing sperms in
petri dishes. The eggs will find

their mates. It was a dark
conspiracy to overthrow the
hierarchy of calculus. Do
not remove the asterisks.

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Satish Verma, 7 december 2017

Upstaging

Death by rains.
No exclamation
was needed.

*

O, moon; -
I will join you soon,
hotted up by sun.

*

Parenthesis.
I am reading again
my lost poem.

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Satish Verma, 6 december 2017

One Garden City

The ordinary life
and the passage of one thousand
full moons.

Cresting a culture of violence;
when a trident
bleeds you unethically?

A cave robber
becomes god incarnate. A
finger of land snaps-

and you savagely interrupt
the prayer and send the
message. Run, brother, run –

for the roots. Nights are
numbered and the
blue mountain is burning.

Sexless virginity is at stake!

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Satish Verma, 5 december 2017

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, 3 december 2017

Vignette

Where do
I go in dark?
There was no moon
no taper.

*

The petals,
unspeak, fall
from the endowed,
forehead of goddess!

*

Do you believe-
in omens?
Between right and wrong
I am crumbling.