Satish Verma, 21 november 2014
Was it a spriritual failure of a man
to become an animal effortlessly?
and how difficult it was
to change the street’s crowd?
In the human drama
no dialogue ends. It begins again
and the hero replays the tragedy.
The fight between one versus many
continues endlessly,
like jungle’s law
where a body is thrown to beasts.
Though I have run out my steps
I will count the miles, I have to scramble.
My hands tremble when I write the
epitaph of a dying light on mount.
It is getting dark now.
Saturn will shortly rise.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 20 november 2014
When insects were crawling
dreams had contradictions,
a sudden dropp in temperature
brought the quantum touch.
Ending of the grief
or grief of ending
rejected every intact truth
and death was trailing behind the candle.
Fear and agony were following
the footfalls of night
Blindness was weaving a broken moon.
The time will not be answerable for any plight.
Corners of childhood brighten up
for sweet nothings
I adore the fallen god,
he was inhaling the earth.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 18 november 2014
I do not want to become
plaintiff or defendant.
Untethered, I will punish myself
for metaphysical nuances.
Sometimes a silence talks to grieving sky
about a fake truth.
The tears will never stop now.
Give me my freedom to cry,
to exhume the body of justice
and bury my future in memories
I do not sell the dreams.
Eyes tell it all.
History repeats itself
when message dies on legs!
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 17 november 2014
To become or not to become a renegade,
or to die or not to die for a semi-god?
These were some of the questions
thrown at an incomplete script.
What elevated you to a celebrity?
Your hump or deep wrinkled groans?
Age is abating, abattoir is empty.
Exile from the past is over.
When you intend to comeback to childhood
and become a simple star?
Behind the mask lies the embrace of death
I am afraid the flames will engulf,
the genius of pathways.
Everything will turn into obsolete gossip.
A patch of sunlight becomes a costly exposure
bones are entwined in eternal cuddle.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 16 november 2014
Are you genuine, I ask?
Your face, a stone wall,
I had been bruising my psyche against it.
I have no strength to bury myself alive,
in the mass grave of lies.
An ancient fear
descends from the hill.
Wants to marry a tree.
Or worship the terror
of a diaspora.
The vultures are dying every day,
We were talking of pregnancy,
desire and death.
The sparrows are gone.
Heat is rising.
I am starting the countdown.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 15 november 2014
Pardon my mask
I will put you on pedestal to torment me,
because you were necessary
for my existence.
When I prepare finally my death wish
you can smile.
Your eyes are looking through my head,
I know,
you were hurt from my moon face.
I will wash your feet with my tears now.
Exhausted, nameless in a crowd
I was counting my see-through triumphs
all piled up as burned out bones.
To live without meaning is very painful.
Everything is abused for self gratification.
Over a black sky, against the mountains
the old silence becomes teeth of a dead faith.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 14 november 2014
Anxiety was touching the mime
I cannot hold a reality.
We were playing with each other.
The creation and hunger of living
takes you to unknown fields
I am, what I am not.
Always bluffing, puffing on the road,
counting the milestones
in reverse osmosis,
feeling proud of mighty mistakes,
talking to faltered ego,
going against the sun.
My climate merges with hot desert
A story reappears again and again
like a dried skeleton in sands.
How long I will run
chased by planetary fears?
Barbs pierce the tender zones
I see my own demise,
body floating like a flower on lake.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 13 november 2014
My thoughts halt at your lips
beyond lies your silence
to start a voyage in snowy dialogues
to find a meaning of futile life
and trash of the myths.
Our entwined life has chosen
consolation of past,
We are still alive
kicking and reveling.
A shadow imitates the God
meditates under the unyielding tree.
The fugitive may find some greatness
in insult.
The vastness of loneliness
ultimately takes over.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 12 november 2014
Space has all the silent approval,
truth will not multiply.
Another funeral takes place
in the barren field of lies.
Fire burns the life’s hopes,
while town mourns the death.
Sunshine bakes the eyes
but truth will not multiply.
Desireless peak of thoughts
sets out the smoke,
towards our homes,
trampling the shame, guilt and hurts.
We were still indulging in useless talk
but truth will not multiply.
Virtue has a unique impulse
a drone in the ears.
Fog was waiting for the sky.
The planet empties a bucket of sorrow.
I will favour the faceless name,
but truth will not multiply.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 11 november 2014
A candid confession from you,
when your identity started protruding
from innocent rage.
You were accepting defeat
without a fight.
The lips tell the grief of human failure,
your prudence propped up
by Prozac.
A beautiful collection of anxieties
adorned on the shelf of life.
A cruise in veins
to dispel the high cholesterol
dewy-eyed mirror
and ambulating pain.
Satish Verma
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