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Satish Verma, 1 march 2014
CAN DIE
Wide awake,
the double helix splits.
Chasing the debris of refusal to die.
The new genes choose to mutate,
fencing the child who wanted to become
only brain. No flesh, no bones.
Will he survive on this date?
In the tortured ravines of hate and someone
will not hang him from the tall branches of yew?
The train was burning on the track,
bridge collapsed in the valley of gloom
and snow bound peaks were splattered red.
The young shadows are afraid to return
to play. The fibrosis will not allow the fingers
to move, to pick up the tulips, waiting for the
first time, to be harvested. The gardner is
dead under the dew. It was
cloudy again.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 28 february 2014
REMEMBRANCE
A tribal fear
was lurking,
behind a surge of emotion.
The sun was looking black.
A sexual abuse
of a quaint flower
aborts the fruit.
This year we will go hungry.
A nascent seed
stripped on road-
cries for water.
We hear without listening.
Death by a grave
was a domestic claim.
But you were found dead in a bunker.
Life vows to stand alone
on the burning deck-
of a turbulent ship.
The ocean will find a bloody hand one day.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 26 february 2014
BLUE SKY
The stem cells coaxed to become
a kidney or a trachea failed to
ask the Himalayas, why were not,
they gathering the ice for glaciers!
Some sexual jealousy?
The naked darkness will nurse
the roses to rest on the barrel
of a gun. Civil war will start any day.
Colored man, the tattoos will not
tell the truth of the body. Blood
was always crying to give up
the fight. Why half-brothers were
destroying each other?
No squirrel will climb on the trees.
Nuts have gone. The winds have dispersed
sine die. A prayer is rising from the lips of earth.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 24 february 2014
IRONY
A severed hand on my shoulder
wrenches it off.
You sit on a toadstool
to measure the depth of grass.
A raven scans the earth:
nothing was left to eat.
The hungry urchins had
already punctured the garbage can.
A live show of committing suicide
will take place tonight.
To become silent in roaring noises
was the outcome of a dive.
A terrorist in pilgrim’s pouch walks past
a bomb. The wires reach in the schism
of a faith. Again you cry in your skin
for sake of a forgotten god.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 23 february 2014
BROKEN PROMISE
Who will deliver the blow
to hissing winds of red hot skin
when burning desert hits the green trees?
Life flows through fire in the shadows
of cloudy peaks. I resume living
in the bodies of other people,
I am not myself. And change must
come in the garb of numbers,
in the mode of nothingness,
like the horns locked in the middle
of the road, raising dust and hoofs
two bulls fighting in the ruins of widespread
culture of politics. Only slogans give
the clue to black power of flesh. A
dispute does not settle for the last rites.
Neither burial nor a funeral will take place.
Only bones will give rise to a flower bed
where ashes will read the history.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 21 february 2014
MOCKERY
Entering into deathless trance
the moon was galloping across the clouds,
clad in blue winds,
for a spiritual encounter with the sky.
A saint in making,
a grandson of god,
retreats in a religious retreat
to taste a forbidden pain of separation,
without surface love.
In a see-through transparency
the arrogance juts out
parting the tall grass of the assault course.
The prophetic self-absorption will decide the destiny.
The segregation of caste had ultimately
blossomed. Matter is generating energy.
Cosmos of a single dewdropp reflects in sun
The dry loaves are thrown on the street.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 20 february 2014
THIS ODYSSEY
The wound peeks out
from the round eyes. No lashes,
brows. Singed face betrays the scars
of last century.
He was fighting with his fists only.
Iced lids throwing the flames;
god knows what was the pain of memories?
He did not reverse the wheels of woes;
did not bring back the stream
lost in the volcanic rocks.
Playing truant from black death
a frail hope kindles the small fish
to swim against the current,
ruts of repetitions and bores of endless
barrels shooting roadmaps.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 19 february 2014
KISSING GODS
When we slept through our
naked loops, there was a silent call.
Moon was out walking on the street
peeping through the glass window,
the crossed legs.
Trees were meshed up in dark. Do you
know the impropriety of leaves, climbing
on each other? Dogs inbreeding? Incestuous in camera.
The elixir of life. Recycled urine. We
were not crying. It was the urgency
to die to challenge the infinity.
We get paralysed. Our legs will not
move on fallen skulls. Blood was everywhere.
The terrorists on terrace, negotiating for a massive
ransom. This interwar was wholesome. The
hysterical confusion breaks us apart
and morgue was full of kissing gods.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 18 february 2014
COMFORT IN HOBBLING HOME
Washed by tears, the flame kindled again.
Crimson magma was quick to engulf
the drops on forehead. Fired from close range
the bullets opened the bloodgates in quick succession.
It should not have happened!
Therefore the journey resumes outside the good
or the evil. The rdx bombs are found at
your doorsteps and you watch helplessly the
murder on dining table.
Are you safe in linens of truth? The lip
gloss of diplomacy will work? The sea
was turbulent and a hijacked trawler was left
on waves with the shot body of captain.
Your hands are trembling on the knobs without
doors. Through the death I perceive a
child crying in the arms of a sobbing galaxy.
There were needles on the road and our
soles were bleeding.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 17 february 2014
TOXIC
A toxic tongue laps the ocean
and fish goes to sleep at bottom.
I do not know from where to start.
A distraught candle flickers.
The blast victim was pregnant and
the foetal head got severed off in womb.
There were big holes in intelligence.
Raw fledgling. The evil existed
in every room. I was not able
to open a single door.
Because they were blind,
taking roots in soil of ancestral graves
on the name of god,
throwing blue stars
in the eyes of believers.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 16 february 2014
MY TABOO
Hollyhocks will not let me go;
hold my hands.
Shying away
they were turning to ashes.
In the night, wisteria
emanates a hungry cry.
Though wind had announced
sun has not kept the promise.
I gasp for the body silver
like ancient lust,
pure and paranoid –
asking for the head of a spider.
This non-violent resistance
seeks more space to pasteurize
the beautiful milk in gold containers.
A passion flower was going to melt.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 15 february 2014
MEDALS AND AWARDS
In a school of murder a hub of
terror survives.
An acid attack on face
captures the contradictions of first nervous countdown.
Step aside my truth, my tears
are under siege. The schizophrenic
will draw a landscape
of falling earth.
Tonight a visual poem will come alive
on a dirty screen of life.
Words were written like mercy
on the hands.
Why the face wears no smile?
Hard core pornography of blueberries survives
amidst the shooting and explosions.
The nymphs were waiting in the heaven!
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 14 february 2014
CROSSING
The body was arched in a denial mode
on the rose bed, unsettling human emotion
in the train of lots. A broken chain
of thoughts outranking the holiness of crime.
I am not getting the signals of fire, sparks
or flames. Only smoke on the mirror. It was
becoming a murder, discarding the clay, terracotta,
color in Indian summer. A sensuous dance
begins, on the mobiles. The portfolio contains the
numbers of streets for total annihilation so
the visual footprints will disappear. The mathematical
progress of genes halts. Million fingers will
write history of wailing waves, frightened
of hot winds.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 13 february 2014
ANOTHER TRIAL
Liquidity crunch turns you
into lip slave.
The candlelight bed has the broken legs.
Asleep by the boat you sway in dark.
You are still a number in the books to be fed.
A jigsaw puzzle in the economic boom
starts a jihad. Here I am waiting for you
to start a crusade against the falling stars.
The encounter turns bloody. Shoot out for innocents.
Kids and women, criss-crossing the path of hate.
I was not ready for this disgrace of religion.
The king was making it free below poverty line.
Every wound will be addressed and healed.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 12 february 2014
AGAINST THOUGHTS
The lake was drying up
touching raw nerves.
Epicenter of violence was standing
on gun powder-
nursing charity groups
which were spewing hot lava.
This war was different, wearing masks
played by gloved hands.
The face in the crowd
was twisting the knobs of nuclear doors.
A tender haze over the winter
of relationship. The stones were smiling.
The dance of the road, I am the lone
survivor of genocide to witness
the romance of death, the nameless
liberation.
Can you negate this matrix? This fall
of becoming? I smear the ashes
on forehead of history and squander
my poems.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 11 february 2014
A SMALL CHANCE
Standing on a sandisland
I was looking at the landscape
of the aura of a lobbied avatar.
The chill was spreading on the river unfazed.
The sassafras had a logistics network
to penetrate in the oysters, becoming
grayish white pearls of wisdom.
It will protect you from any insult.
When the temple of learning was
being rebuilt, the words were finding
an echo in sky’s fear of abduction.
The sun was hiding behind the lies.
In a trance I move unmindful
of interbreeding. Some grizzly thoughts
were near the cave of skeletons. The
panther was readying to jump out.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 6 february 2014
OBTUSE MYSELF
The hard core cult was fixing
the flies on the podium.
A snapdragon becomes a cannibal
devouring its own seeds.
Beyond insanity lies the phantom zone
where you hang upside down your faith.
A lunatic threatens to jump
from high tomb –
after excavating the remains of
a forbidden fear.
There was nothing except the
worn rags of a fakir.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 5 february 2014
HISTORY
Focused on burgundy palms
as the age blinks,
you start distressing on a unipolar
pinnacle, biting the nails.
The road absorbs the horizon.
Perched on a controversial tree
the birds break into small events
to reach the grass roots. A transparent question
always chases you about the consequence
of a war with troubled priests.
Do we need nitrous oxide to offset the gloom
of hovering religion? One enchanted
crowd spills in copycats to bring about
a revolution in ranks who were busy
in translating the epics of past.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 4 february 2014
AGELESS
Too beholden to water of life.
It hurts deliberately when you were thirsty.
You break the bread in reflective mood.
Who will climb the cross today?
The sheen was wearing off the smug faces
Civil war was starting again.
The declinist god was weeping soundlessly.
Someone shot the flamingoes in flight.
Militias have started the bloodletting.
Painfully I was collecting the sounds.
A new world begins on broken plasma.
Electrons have shifted their orbits.
A dog sniffs a freshly dug mound of earth.
Instead of a body a wreath was found.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 3 february 2014
VICTORY OF FALL
One unthinkably hostile debate
started in a colosseum:
a path to kill the clemency.
A comatose truth was listening to lies.
They were pointingly arguing about
the nukes option to bring about the peace
and prosperity on the strife torn earth.
Total anihilation will initiate a new world.
Troubled times; the failure of sacramental thread
to tie the god. The king presides over
the sweaty palms which failed the swords.
Deprivation will breed the contempt for theater.
Horses were ready to disobey the order.
Shoes were thrown on altar.
The eyes were everywhere in the wounds, stained
with guilt, never to celebrate the victory.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 2 february 2014
A SICK UNCERTAINTY
Rhetoric had a theme
like crab-grass to destroy the lawn.
Fly ash had submerged the legacy of sane lips.
The river drifts between the broken walls
of binge soaring. Tension was descending
in the lanterns who were flickering hopelessly.
Was there any need of autopsy of dark secrets?
The terror burns the bed. You don’t get a wink
of sleep. Between bubble and sky, wrapped up
afterlife aches. You wear the blindness, then slide
in grey fog. The hypocrisy and violence will wolk
side by side.
Do not touch the leftovers. A vulgarity
of expansion! Step aside from the continuum.
I will wait for you.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 1 february 2014
PRIZEFIGHT
Time zone had become acidic.
Wear the chador softly.
Moon is coming out.
Down rushing
stillness croons.
Someone is going to outwit the night.
A night bird weighs the wind.
Why do you stand alone?
Desires will come relentlessly.
The essence of pain.
My bronze heart,
has no prodigious injury.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 31 january 2014
ENUNCIATION
Entering into hypersonic gridlock
you become one of the crowd;
remain devastated, slip into unconciousness,
defer to a calibrated emblem and speak
untainted. The debris was taking to the
street. The trees were drinking from
geyser basins, mutated restraint. The crow
was taking a bath in milk, to show that
it has no venom. Or rather no controversy
for a tedium death. That is the stripping of
ambition, till the light arrives. Darkness
will reap the grains of sorrow. The fire
digs out the secret bones. You cannot stop
the whipping of skulls which were without thoughts,
when silence was bidding for lips.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 30 january 2014
DROOPING
For a desolatory trident
I was feeding my anger.
I could not do it, sell
myself for punitive lenses of my calculus.
A nymphalid arsenal.
The war was still going on
to strike in deep poctets, demolishing
nascent hope. Future will
ponder at the mascots. The grief
of rags and riches will continue
listening to eternal conflicts.
The wounds will develop whiskers.
Not for the opulent pain in the body:
we were crying for the glory of the man
which was disappearing fast,
under the whirling snow of broken stars.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 29 january 2014
THE BRIGHTENED FIRE
Tonight sleep was not coming to me.
Tears had washed the splinters out of the bruised eyes.
It was becoming extremely hard to pulversize
the legacy, the tendrils of violence.
Wrapped in white shrouds the bodies were laid out
on the grass. The pearly sunlight was ready
to give anything for a name.
The pitted legs, the shattered bones,
black moles of the final darkness. Descending
on the battle ground, parched throats
licking up the dew from the mute bodies of ancestors.
I would eat death, shapeless, as blunt
questions, as medallions. Millions of years will be ready
to make out the fossils of time machines.
Are not the pinnacles of snow shining on the
mountains of silent hate? You keep the windows
open, so that the blasts does not shatter the glass.
When this calamity will end? The new born
babies are thrown out on heaps of garbage, bloody
rags of unhinged bloughs. A hunch-backed
god was tottering on the broken planks.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 28 january 2014
JEALOUS BLOOD
Standing on a hump,
a chilled remorselessness
of a shadow trauma climbs out of a sealed
grotto of infinity
like a vas deferens, spilling fiddled lies.
You grope for your identity in griping
acceptance. From the umbilical cord
the pink flesh brandishes a monster.
You forget the vowels in a solo monologue
in a tormented accent, muffled
in bleeding throat. Take my ears
for cosmetic therapy, which killed my hearing.
Between blindness and tidy rocks
I am walking discreetly to count the
digs of mysterious armless truths:
disappeared in the pages of history.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 27 january 2014
TRIGGER POINT
A missile in the home,
what they have done?
You are on flames.
A red smoke rises
from bottomless hole.
Memory slumps.
A glow in pain washed
cells, calls the mirror.
Instead, grave diggers arrive.
This was the manufactured truth
of the eternal kiss
of death. I stretch my arms
to feel the terror.
The walls start crying.
There was no roof.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 25 january 2014
THE JUNGLE RULES
Wrigglers dripped again
from hidden heights. The red river changed
its course furiously. The wave climbers
abseiled from a lethal boat
to wipe out the beach memory. Timeline
sneaked to put the blood signature
of a cult on the glass shards.
A biosynthesis starts for tadpoles
destroying the infrastructure of the species.
Yolk sacs were emply. New borns
were turning into snakes.
Enemy swept across the land. Deers
were being released for the panthers.
The boundary was only meant for the victims.
The metamorphosis was complete.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 24 january 2014
FALTERING TONGUE
He did not want anything
after the sex and death of a protagonist.
Rebuffed and sliced through the body,
the onus was left on toxic mix.
He died in deprivation, in intensity
of hunger and fluidity of thirst.
The quartet of grenades stretched too far
the indemnity of shell shocked apostles.
A clan lost the sense of hearing.
A mystic odyssey of massacre, raising
the doubt of gifts in heaven. The starchy
statements and commands scattering.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 23 january 2014
TRAILING WAR
In search of peace
the free hand was inflicting casualities.
The kids were buried like insects in a rubble.
Step by step in speculation
the streets were livid with rustic murals
of splintered blood on walls.
The foxgloves had lobbed rockets
on tall heads. Beleaguered
eyes nailed to fire.
I am watching you my art,
to witness the agony of man.
Burn, burn my cupped hands with snatched words.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 22 january 2014
A TUMULTUOUS WELCOME
Tell me about the bluetoothed man,
of his stark naked truth, in toe
for a brief pause. The toll was mounting.
The tallest fraud of chilling facts. The city of
cold murders of hermaphrodite. The sex of
meanest level to become rich in seduction of wooly legs.
The wasps were hovering home. The stings
of famous wives.
Predicament of deficit bombs. Motivated artillary.
It is incursion of sterling thieving, of sisyphean
pain. The plaques were becoming honorable.
The spoon bills landing on dry lake.
Bracing the embattled knees, I dismantle my
life to start again from living the
death of beautiful.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 21 january 2014
THE FROST
This overwhelming emptiness:
something to present allegorical, figuratively,
which is not here. Vultures were coming back.
A stimulating dialogue must start
to release the hostages of unknown fears.
The menacing fog was towering over statements.
Everything was turning into coal and the smoke
was streaming from the oasis.
Where we were on the impounded road
unstuck after ethnic cleansing?
The jealous blood was coloring the greed
on the cold shoulders of priested bluff.
The beast loses the domination, bread
and milk of drifting poor. In glass house the
clouds were entering. The dissecting table
was ready to nail the sea of hate.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 20 january 2014
SHELLING UNCOUNTED
A blue moon was crabbing at night
in the sea of stars. Yuu could hear
the outcry of herons suddenly.
It was mayhem. Heads will now roll for defiant
attitude. The creepers were trapped
in the impatient blind-catchers.Unforgettable
waiting for the flamed silence was from
night till dawn. The sun will peep discreetly.
The breasted curve of a cloud hoists
a golden thrust in multitude of wings. Day
arrives with a bang riding on bruises. A blast
fills the obtuse mother whose child was dead at the gate.
Sucked slowely, the crumbled walls
put up the silver of noon in background. Someone
covers the body with white mattress. Another
number is added on the page.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 19 january 2014
NOBODY WEEPS
On the street between the impeachment
and castle a divine release was being
enacted engaging the durable peace in seething winter.
A somber black cloud of smoke was
slowly reclaiming the sun.
A disgraced militant was pounding his chest
for not killing priceless bees
who were initializing the flowers of Aden. The
death was laid out in a row before the child
was born. Dead prophets were watching from the eyes of dolls.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 18 january 2014
FROM FRONT
It burrows deeper in the covert
recess of pain, shunning violence of light:
the epicenter of Armageddon,
giving collective death to providence
in a proxy war.
The collasal gossip rests on the river of ashes,
deflects the incredible starved children –
wind blown without geysers, dripping in sweat,
licking the salt lake of damnation.
Cutthroats will come shortly.
Centrifuges are churning uranium in underground
tunnels.Myopia was increasing. In
another garrison germ warfare was getting a shot.
Choked off I still carried the holistic style.
A blockade was sending the sleepers.
Inheritance of lean arms but brave wants,
bares it all.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 17 january 2014
NO GRAND LANDING
It clings to you, like a liquid rock,
burns your skin. You get a chemosignal.
Tethered on a rope your clenched iron fist
remains dysfunctional. From the elite enclave
red smoke billows like a jinni unleashed
from the bottle.
A stray mortar sends olfactory fumes.
The land concludes a twist, becomes
unforgiving.The debris was a cluttered, goaded
inheritance. When it was not there I eat
the guns. Mission accomplished of death and
destruction, you start a prayer near an incapacitated tank.
Today, like everyday the war failed us.
Mother and son, father and daughter sleep in death’s embrace.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 16 january 2014
UNENDING WAR
Preparing jaggery from palm juice
the resistance is splashed on face
for the vision of peace. A pre-emptive
trapeze breaks the monotomy of transsexuals.
Intimes of peril the ancient conflict
becomes a broker to fire the night. A ball
of smoke betrays a human failure in
nostalgic days. The intense brown eyes
water with stark fear the incoming
rockets. This war will not end. A conduit
of fierce emotions always identifies the man
with personal faith. No overt blood or sweat
figures it out. Torrents of bullets have
no inclination to halt the wolves. A city
cries. The siren screams again!
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 15 january 2014
UNENDING WAR
Preparing jaggery from palm juice
the resistance is splashed on face
for the vision of peace. A pre-emptive
trapeze breaks the monotomy of transsexuals.
Intimes of peril the ancient conflict
becomes a broker to fire the night. A ball
of smoke betrays a human failure in
nostalgic days. The intense brown eyes
water with stark fear the incoming
rockets. This war will not end. A conduit
of fierce emotions always identifies the man
with personal faith. No overt blood or sweat
figures it out. Torrents of bullets have
no inclination to halt the wolves. A city
cries. The siren screams again!
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 14 january 2014
FIRE AND STRAW
Lovers of death were on prowl:
nothing was finished.Smart words
were bouncing back. Quotes by the fire
had stripped down the carnage. More
bombs in courtyard and hope was confronting
death. Few branded names were causing
rift in the ranks and I must forget
about the waterboarding too.
After the outrage you would not trust
them to govern themselves. The towns were
still sleeping accustomed to the knocks
on the doors. The water birds were not
coming this winter. Smoke and fire. Sound
and fury with flashbacks of flood of red streams.
I was tumbling down beyond challenge.
With message of menace they will do no wrong!
SATISH VERMA
Satish Verma, 13 january 2014
ARTFUL PINCERS
A terror of alikeness looms
like stricken birds, incenerated in split seconds.
You smell the burning flesh in an air blitz.
Nearing endgame a conceptual hate
is jettisioned in sky. You start collecting
the fragments of life.
Words start jumping. You refuse to accept
more than the want. And yet a finite
listening was absent. And the secret kennel
in the dead child fails to sprout. The toys
and dreams lie unattended on birthday
of the nation. A monogamous judge ascends
to heaven.
Any durable peace on the way? Unruffled
you are still in freezing water. The boat
is half-submerged and tears are burning
the deck. No wrinkles. The fish nod
their fins for the final plunge.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 12 january 2014
AWARENESS
A fragile pistillum sways to conceal
the sperms in pestle. Unilaterally fired salvos
were increasing. After the dig, bodies in the
debris were popping up daily. There
was no truce for brothers in arms. Struggling
to hold on the humanism, anger was rising
from the white paper.
A sense of lost is weaponized. There is
a mix of solemnity and hurt. Pacemaker was becoming
a slave, will not respect cadence. Obscurity
must take refuge. The golden lined clouds
were enduring the sun.A howitzer fires at moon.
It was time to find the anchor, shoving aside
the mortgage of life.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 11 january 2014
Utopia
Was there any option left?
Violence was there,
evil existed in pacifism.
Signature flora demonstrates
the mental poise.
I call for the imperfections.
In blue mood, I kill the moon
and take a walk on the cinders.
Will you give me a hand?
There was no path left,
but the trees were walking on beach.
The war will never end
between the genders. The
secret of butterfly catcher
was buried long ago.
From a childhood into the -
forest of lies, it was a long
journey losing the scents.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 10 january 2014
THE GOODBYE
A marble calm under the shaky gaze
was parsing the human pain. I would
lift the calculated grief from folded earth.
You feel badly bruised and racial war
becomes anathema. Past the age eyesight dwindles,
cannot identify the faces of dead.
O my God! Bizarred bloated eyes filled
with blood were groping for the fallen walls.
Who had dug the garden with grenades?
A theme hunger separates the hearts. When
desert was the bed for daughters and sons,
the fathers were shaking with hate.
The shine wears off the love. A different world
under the lids. Miracle does not happen.
We were searching for the doors.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 9 january 2014
DEATH AND APOLLO
Honeymoon with history was over.
A two headed snake was sitting on a coin
of leather in grass. Blue tongued
jewel was going to serve the enormity
of destination. Disquietingly, decomposed
relics were coming out of the rubble. Coil
of thoughts becomes a vector of violence.
Cobwebs of increased blood supply to
malignant battle. You die in your own
vision. The awns of oblivion pierce the
wings of dumbfounding words. Offering
shows the fear unlimited. Prices
crash in a meltdown. Poverty holds you
in doorway. Feathers understand the boundary.
A flock of sheep was butchered by a wild beast.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 8 january 2014
WOUNDED FLIGHT
Instead of pain sublime in body of death
and bracing a hailstorm of bullets
you embrace a white phosphorus
to burn for whole life, as a reminder of
collective suicide. Like my lost children
I am collecting the words to weave a phrase
against the destiny for capturing this moment.
The vast crowd will decide the fate of frigid winter –
to upstage the sun. Barren trees overhear
the wailing winds. Lake of death will outlast
the mirage of inward suffering. Chariot of
Apollo vaults to inconceivable height.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 6 january 2014
CONSENSUAL
You left behind touchstones
when I was inventing another zero.
Black and white, sobering transparency
was reclaiming the mandate of dust.
Barefoot lambs were clamouring for ethics
in forbidden land. The sun shrinks the
clouds to distribute equally, the landscape in
a vibrant consolidation. The small mouths
start resembling you. Something
unimaginable was happening in a diaspora
of maniacs. Interactive and dauntless,
I put my neck on guillotine, unfevered,
for the beheading of truth, in times
of false hopes and unturned stones.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 5 january 2014
NOT ANYBODY
Sun was setting over the cacti and critiques.
A cryptogram said, dignity first without
any damage to faithful aloneness. Protection
was not sacrifice, you have to plummet from a cliff.
A plaque has no mortality. The pressing of
lips places pain ahead of hope. The smiles
have a coercive expedience. I become voiceless
in a delirium of hooves.Sex green death opens
a door. Fear of feathers surprises, would
not measure the sky. Bound by winds the giant
trees search for the soil. Any grass can send
the butterflies. The bald piston throws the
blood on the spikes. Spiders are unwinding
by kisses. Beds are empty.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 4 january 2014
DUST GRAFTED
Fractious smokescreen
between celestial reflection
and contempt
floats on a shaken rug.
You cannot stand still
incognito.
The indictment stinks
for the impoverished vicitims
who make history through to the bones.
Grappling after theft,
interstitial existence falls like glass pieces
nowhere, black and bleeding.
A robust chorus rises against resistance
of strips. The ocean rides on snails.
Hills threaten to go partisan ways.
The division had started the perennial conflict.
A pebble is thrown in the pond.
A racist moon becomes a living doll.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 3 january 2014
BEYOND THE CLIQUE
Dignity of knife in hope or fright
cuts the outer edge of desire.Huddled
anxiety oversees the fringe bites
of comforts. The child you abandoned
on road becomes a tree I nurtured.
A leafy town grows in the calyx of capricious
impermanence. Calisthenics permeates the
vibrations in foxgloves.Dragonflies become
vulnerable in feckless shadows of eyes. The
lithe body metastasizes into a mausoleum,
you adore. A tiger mauls a gift of bed.
Your whispers start hissing for intrusion.
A pilgrim of negation raises a non-belief,
creates a stimulus to bestow an endless
pain in summation of all night.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 2 january 2014
ASH POEM
I could not take it, the fear.
Transient flesh
vibrant in a sunken ship.
On a coral island
deconstruction of a fallen window.
Jumping on million skins.
The level of violence was rising.
Rebuttal will not convey
the truth, the reality.
A thin line of lips
skates on the ice of power.
In a palm grove
I was held by music of death.
My arms unwrapped
around the portrait of life.
White swellings on the knuckles
betray the gliding priest,
who denies the god.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 1 january 2014
HE WHO LEARNS MUST SUFFER
Strange thoughts give words
a pain. A mountain unfolds
a tunnel.He who carries a vase of ashes
must enter the gate to plot a path
for history.Ideas have turned into stones.
A violence erupts in long winter night.
Nobody understands the bird of time
who has lost the flight.
The bones learn the absence of house
in the forest of men. You realize the anointment
of unlearning. A gaudiest opulence
comes slowly in huts. The body becomes
blue in gentle fall of skimmed silence.
A prayer has a pernicious omen.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 31 december 2013
GENEROSITY
Velvet thorns
become signature
of my pain and joy.
Body paints the naked earth
blue. Eyes in hot desert
search red poles and blue moon.
Emotional strife:
dripping accidents with sum flowers,
extremely talkative.
Then the words litter
on white paper. Very sad,
you leave nothing between the waits.
Dawn to dusk, pleasing the gods.
An owl on each branch
disregarding the stars.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 30 december 2013
SHAMEFUL
Like an alligator tending her eggs
on tongue, death moves the life
on strength of charisma, overreaches
for requiem and then distributes the raw
moments in subterfuge, we play the game
to cheat each other without shame.
A red carpet is laid on white floor
of the wax house, making gold from
sun rays. The moon bleeds internally.
The rivals come face to face walking
on the ashes of ancestors, ungrieving for the
loss of sperms. Fertility will come in petri dishes
without the name of father. I am here,
obody, ready to unanswer any question.
My stains are becoming darker every day.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 29 december 2013
TRADING DESIRES
Wrapped in explosives he was unready
for a bruise. A dive at a mound of torso
to unearth the archives of areolae.
Apnoea will come for arbitration
in clenched insinuation:
pull nipples to open the window of mind.
On the forehead a smear of vermilion
brings glare like a third eye.
Real fish in the green pond of envy.
Desiccation of spine excites the rhetoric
blurs the sea of swans. A lone tree
explodes into a spring, not just leaves of old flame.
Silver moon recognizes the battered hill.
A white wolf was cruising on the road
for appleblossoms.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 28 december 2013
DIARY
He went under pile of words
to tie the thread of understanding
but was stoned to death.
They put the piglets in liquid nitrogen
for future generations to study.
The point of departure had come.
Navel-gazing was the best pastime
for the commander whose sepoys
were fighting the battle for freedom.
I have to say something which I need not
say. The fight is gone from the bleeders.
World was moving towards the poles.
We should talk about looking, not only
owning up our blunders. The import of
saying No has been cooked under the small Yes.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 27 december 2013
TWILIGHT
On periphery of gestures and casts
I speak for fading integrity while a fossil
of a scream was stolen from the womb
of language.
On becoming silent, an untitled truth
shakes sensibility. Small vignettes track
the battleships of calligraphy. The sermons
wage a war.
The saints praised the puffed up sheep,
suffered the asylum of Atlantic for astral
hopes to cross the folds of virginity. Splashed
motherhood refused the onslaught of tears.
You make inadequate love, exiled in
intimacy. Blood-drowned statements
will not make to the surface of time. Century
moves not for you, not for me, not for him.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 26 december 2013
NATIVE OF DEATH
He had started his own manhunt
for an autistic seal for a personal vision
in deep waters. They had left him to die at bottom of pain.
The silent screams against inhuman brutality
started coming from underground. A photo
montage was emerging on the walls. I
dip my fingers in blood to write my name.
Just the untitled truth will speak now.
New species of frogs are making headlines.
Men were becoming amphibians, sailing beyond
the shores of kisses to bite.
They were starving for the sun in caves,
to watch the murals for a resume of flames.
The snow was covering the peaks of shame.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 23 december 2013
SLEEPLESSNESS
Through the elements of fear in faith
you become vulnerable to conversing legends.
The reclining god was stolen from the temple
for a weeping skull.
Red clover will interrogate the blurred sky
for domestic violence of dark themes. Ashes
in a terracotta urn were not involved
of a body disrobed. A prosaic
flight of birds was circling around a humpback
sleeping on a lone bench.There were no qualms
in valley of ebbing coat of arms.
You want to coax the nuts and screws
to shut the thousand windows.
A pinhole camera may not be able to capture the light.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 22 december 2013
Unbecoming
A gunny sack was full of bleached skulls.
What now? Do I attend the auction
of mortal wounds in hidden valley of dust?
The arsenal of seductive weapons was a snub
to your culture when the fall of extremes
was overlapping the sunset of empire.
I am going to take my walk in the hell of fire
raging in petunias. The emotions are becoming
volatile after the rape of a child. Is there any
medicine for rape? Nowhere on earth, the violence
stops moving shirtless. The dead century hangs
from the eyelashes, traces the dried up tears.
Some people think, bricks are weightier than
truth. They burn the buses under a weeping
willow. A high caste god will not glaze beyond
the frozen lake of crutches. Belongings on a
striped road vanish in books. A hate gift
drops on tulips.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 21 december 2013
CHRONIC WAIT
When a full moon was taking a bath
by the serene lake, you moved about in
abandoned identity, your sides flaring up.
A slate gray nubion cloud was tossed
around by a tall tree. Hotstepping you despaired
to prevent a stillbirth of a genre
in genocide of anonymous flora viberating
in cyberscape of ominus sentences. The
exhibitionist was taking over the podium. Petit mal
brings the heels down of worshippers anointing
a pair of sandals. Someone goes a non-linear
fashion, denies the holocaust and howling.
Hospice was needed for non-believers in any
case. A continuum of exurbs intercedes in the
slaughter of bovine names.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 20 december 2013
TIME’S BURDEN
I am not too well, he felt.
The flames chased him in charred landscape.
Fighting over, he pondered about the
crime within, the surge to find a nest hole.
A wounded pride where the salmonella hits.
You enter a slot for more enticements.
Any patch of vague tragedy among the barren
desirability, shares the accident with sacrifice.
Unhappy, you reverse the mode of retrieving
against the terms of swimming alone.
Where was the death’s arc to capture
the mistakes of life? Was an archaism
sufficient to kill the untruth? No implant
will enhance the height of achievement.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 19 december 2013
BENEATH THE SKIN
It was not a demigod, elephantiasis
of a beast, snakes sitting on head. A catastrophic
tree view.I was proud of being alive during
carpet-bombing. A catnip was needed to clear
the vision. The town was moving out shedding
its landmarks. Nocturnal flares were disturbing
the lovers. A chronic shift in sex starved
season. The birds had stopped going behind
the bushes. Each day seeks permission to bury
the dead, and grass waits for the noble feet.
Ultra hemo cover was not there. Drained out
we were becoming pale to account for the loss
of blood in cross-firing. Ultimate pain in chest
will unburden the task of a funeral prayer.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 18 december 2013
NEW VERSION
even vultures will not devour the proffered
war time victims, ruined was the impression
of untitled sacrifice, a wild anemone
slips into the river of blood, I tend to forget
the faces of embers –
arson by apostles of peace, it has become a commodity,
oppression releases a promise for optic illusion
through large-prints
a near miss when the truth chokes to death,
suicidal full of nerves-
the hills tremble in anticipation, lambs
were dropping dead on a green patch
such obligation
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 17 december 2013
GRAY HANDS
It is neither end nor beginning, I am
still suspended between punishments, primrose
gives one answer, hollyhock another, I
catch the moon in flight to west and
enter a sand grain to probe the universe
for the sexual selection of a terror bomb,
harbinger of mass destruction, give me some
asparagus to uproot the cancer for the sake
of a humane evolution: bougainvilleas are
not blooming and in twilight I wait for the two
eyes of a panther which start blazing in a dark cave,
she was expecting to deliver her first progeny
of gentle cubs
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 15 december 2013
PRIVATE MOORINGS
searching for words in continuum of
incompleteness, it was a trickle at first, then
a free fall, cerebral fury: I am becoming expansive,
so apposed to verbatim of shrieks, only
in whispers I will talk to delphiniums,
I would walk inside the time capsule, come
and sit besides me for a while, I am tired of
this ghost town, and fleeing shadows of
waning luminories on the horizon in
half-naked blooms; on different shores
U-boats are being lowered with torpedos. I am
waiting for the hurricane
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 9 december 2013
de……..
When hope returns, will you be in
alternative mind?
Like a praying mantis brooding for a prey
in a bowl of momentum while I have a
sense of alienation collecting a cloud of
Memories ripping open the gates of tears
and blood for the human cost of dementia;
the disorientation was not complete in
Orthomolecular state, a suicidal visit will also
not bring the diagnosis of pain and iridium hole
of perception in a concentration camp for
searching a bomber base, whether milk thistle
Drags the fears out of the bodies and heals.
I would not come back to hemiplegic wisdom
of the land that was lost centuries back to
occuping, omnipresent knowledge, the eagle
had burned his wings in holy fire!
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 8 december 2013
TENDER FALL
This bonded fear bids for power,
Will I destroy myself in valley of puppets?
War in dreams,
of sins and morals of masked pretentions
wears me off. Time rolls violently
near the periphery, before it flies away.
One chaste run to the shadow of sorrow
burns you alive. Sitting on a heap of sandlewood
you turn into ashes, the sweet aroma
drifting between its rights and wrongs,
evasions and commitments,
hunting for the truth.
Great exodus of principles in green
martyrdom, brings out the blood from the color
of terracotta. The figures on the walls
start talking in falling light, de-icing
the sun, like the dust on this side of dark.
The violence rises again.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 7 december 2013
UNLOST EXISTENCE
When an embryo was growing in a petri dish
I said this is it my adieu
for I am now ready for a new journey of self denial
a skull in my lap
after the abdication of ancient fear
the eyes of buttercups poked with hot iron rods
a hoe breaking the neck of a bowed man
to humanize an ugly beast
my fragile hands make a cup to collect the light
of a fading sun to pour on the stillness
of the dream’s dark roaring
that’s how a pinned butterfly becomes
resigned for capitulation
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 6 december 2013
ONCE MORE
He nearly jumped
from the cliff shrinking back to
the old avatar.
Crossing the dawn in
winter of life for a gift
of the autumn.
It never ends for-
the tears, which lighten up
the candle in dark.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 3 december 2013
UNBELIEVING
Today gives me an ethernal hurting
of the raging night, my moon had crashed
on the wings of flamingoes
While saying farewell to crying winds of the
creek when waves slapping sideways on crazy
shores of silence, another watchman of sweets.
Impared longing till it starts burning
under the eyes, so I am the priest and I am the god
of wasteland incisible in drifting dust
Of voicelessness on the doors of schizophrenia
in order to stay dane amist the freedom of violence
of uncaught heydays of drag queens in transgender
Era of dragons and quivering flash of tempers
between breasts of hills in a green sky it would
be sleepless mystry of gullible hounds
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 2 december 2013
SANTHARA *
When honeycomb started dripping,
he stopped eating and climbed a sand dune
for the last journey.Pall-bearers were ready
for blunt futurism ceding to a deliberate defeat.
Hunger was his turbulent empire, resting
his hands on the shoulders of rocked time
for the purification of greed and spurting desires.
His only mechanical aid was his pen.
Into the half century of geckoes getting rid
of tails when a monkey was found in the stomach
of a croc.Toons themselves spread out mocking
the winter of hexagonal windows. Grey birds
started melting on the burnt-out grasses.
Lions walked on identical twins of nudes.
A wet kiss of death ensured the beautiful
ceasation. Yellow roses opened the frigid body.
* A soulful ritual of Jainism when a person seeks death voluntarily and stops eating and drinking.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 30 november 2013
ONE ANTHOS
Someone connects a bonsai to elemental peat.
Your visual collides a clay bite
of water, deepening the bottom of invisible fence.
My primrose was waiting for you.
Polychromes become volatile. An inventive
missile leaves the trace for a predator to scoop
an angel. I was afraid of wrinkles, the
disjunctive pain. Only an insane can walk
over the fire. The cat’s claw will take hold of freedom,
the bleeding wound of mutual hate.
I sit listening to ceasefire, shirtless soldiers
cleaning their guns, you still seek the empty vessel.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 29 november 2013
THIS DAY
It was inheritance of pain. I should
have known. Incontinent, she was scared
to hug me: the child, after the rape. Shepherding
the lacerations: petrified, a body of lad
floating in a sewage tank; a short circuit in
an incubator, row of infants, life snuffed out in flames;
of being. I want to know ontology, need a
spinal surgery; somebody wants to abort a fetus,
because of mistaken identity, an alien egg
was implanted; racing time, bitter and corrosive,
it happned for the first time; karma, you say.
I don’t agree, you need camel’s milk to clear
your thoughts, like clenched fist against the
darkness; the little child, lad, infants, mortality after
a wrong calculation; the test tubes and petri-dishes,
need despoiling while the soul screams in a
cage; I am ready to jump out of the window,
stories down on the legends, unburdened!
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 28 november 2013
DYING SCREAMS
Shall we go like innocents with heavy
breathing in the pool of blood to find
the innerconnectivity of a boldly beautiful
death? In the open pit of an ancient gold mine?
There was a loss of hidden dance, in the
cancer striken human chain, chiseled on the
grey walls of history. The artifacts stolen, even
the ankle-bells of a toddler had gone up for a sale.
A visual oval gives a liable comment. A
flame nauseates a baby doll. The yellow hornbill
puts up a fight for the sake of memories.
There is a huge silence of the rocks, moaning inwardly
None of me was a god. A simple slum’s promised
dream.Hungry roads will lead to a ruined temple.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 27 november 2013
FLESH AND BONES
Signs versus shadows in city
of reasons burst amnion.
White cranes manipulate black clouds,
smudge the nomenclature.
I want to become deaf
in grazing blasts. Young lovers
dance on machetes; nifty wounds
of red alpines.
Thieves loot the basket of zodiac,
death on tall trees.
Even the grief has enemies,
for another farewell to sky.
You could hear the finger tapping
on the empty belly of little girl
from the broken childhood, not allowed
to scream loudly.
Will the sanity grieve on the charred
remains of a virgin, in the exiled home
of a brave truth? Then two little hands
will thump again in fog?
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 26 november 2013
LAND’S SMELL
Our mouths go dry
at midnight charter on papyrus leaf.
Are we reverting back to pristine stone reliefs?
How far we will go revolving around eclipse,
stumbling on the phraseology of cosmos?
Man was becoming inferior to beast.
Who will walk on the bones of ancestors
to dig out the truth from scriptures?
The proud cows have become violent –
separating milk from grass in agony.
The perks were increasing the rifles.
Freedom had fled away from the legacies.
The split lips cannot speak coherently.
Terror attacks were reaching there, where
drenched amnesia wants to remember only door bells.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 25 november 2013
DEATH OF ABSENCE
Gladioli stand in a tantric daze
under siege of prism. The colors fall dangling,
unsettling silent memories.
I thought I was nervous
while playing a smell game of wild guns,
when tanks were rolling out on streets.
A final farewell before exiting
the garden, in my ceremony of death.
A child lies down waiting for the boots.
The wheat grass of beggers,
never to mourn a falling cloud
undesires a dropp of blood on tongue spilling on skin.
A terrified leaf disturbs a mirror,
civilized image of a private crystal, beyond
the virulence of hiding legs.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 24 november 2013
RANDOM SIN
In pinnate physicals, the thing,
moves like a stark terror
savagely. A primal fear
takes over, because dead don’t
speak. The bullet had passed
through chest. Mutiny of dumb
dandelions, lipless voices in the
sea of madness. Search for a missing
truth begins. The mass grave
contains the dried bones of renegades.
You remember the promise? Who said
we will end the war?
Listen, he bows his head, before
the trespassing starts to kidnap the
bed. Jealousy kills the snakes.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 23 november 2013
UNRAVELLING
An outcast, stripped and beaten
up, the sickle moon
smears the clouds with blood.
I hate to wait for –
the sun to undo this mess,
an ethnic mutilation will bring a chaos.
Nursing the peripheries,
tribes were in pursuit of bayonets;
will not surrender the arms
to mate.Unceasingly they are
digging up an abysmal grave
to throw in the truths in uniform-
in pursuit of feathers, offering
for temple archways, turning
on the future, for past glory!
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 22 november 2013
AIR WAS NAKED
After the putsch, through night he set himself alight
ensnared in flames of societal conflicts, for a
vision of tomorrow, in the birth of a bloody dawn.
The drone of history had failed on a loaded salt.
A solitary murder of truth was sufficient to unsettle
me for a downturn of unborn wounds of drowned
voice, of a requiem. The dead were coming back to life
in dark alleys of black skulls. The pink scarves
were still holding the snow flakes of standing
wheat for the thirsty children, of grieving mothers
who lost the homes to red hands, the white paper,
the hungry guns. The thieves were coming again.
I was never naked in my blood, my howling bones.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 21 november 2013
ECHOES
It was burning again
like goldenrods in drift valley of ethnic hate.
You start climbing down deeper in fear
holding tight your identity.
The anguish of ruined home
under the shadows of bribed hands,
runs on the bodies of pilgrims
who were protecting the unborn baby.
Along the shores of morality, a prodigal
becomes a martyr, forever a blind rock
in the womb of an infant truth, not yet
reached the gates of heaven.
A father begs for pardon, spawning the
tireless edicts, with its grieving craft
of burdens and weightlessness. The time’s predicament
will not tell the secret of death.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 20 november 2013
AGAINST DEPORTATION
Ahead of pain, we did not cry;
intimating of dreams, crowded;
stranded on issues, reaching nowhere.
Black, a weired hairdo, unfurls a moon
in half-sleep. You can open the door
without sound. The snake writhes under your feet.
A traveler waits for a hymn, holds a green
urn, full of tiny eyes, looks at sky and returns
the darkness for any possibility of light.
The missile whistles down; hushed, gnarled
fingers start the rescue efforts in a lonely
cosmos; goldilocks starts howling.
Terror strikes again in offering, so far
about nothingness; a vague, masked scapegoat
sits in bold greens, to start the beginning of end.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 18 november 2013
STRAY FALL
With gray wolves around,
he put the gun on the chin
and pulled the trigger.
The crowded nest and tainted gemones:
the double helix had the sex crumbling:
consensual hate.
Some beasts and hairy saints
were turning the world black,
sitting on marbled floor and talking of white moon.
Drifting faith in swollen eyes, watching
a burning train;
tomorrow I will travel again in pursuit of walking trees.
Proud legends like scorpions
climbing on your throat. Enamelled stings
ready to spin you blue.
Clams shut on the poor pink,
honeycomb becomes a trap.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 17 november 2013
BOUND BY CEILING
Sitting at the edge of a bubble
uncooled, trying to light an eternal flame of anonymity;
counter the wrangler, one skull in each hand,
of ancestors, you prepare for the crime of breaking
the umbilical cord.
Ostracized, you forge the ariel in arid zone,
burned, one patch on the eye, rubber thighs,
sniped at, lay still in a pool of blood,
in cauldron of terror, the brilliance of sun cracks
the marble statues.
Avarice of black boots mirrors the borewell;
washes out the color of smiles on blue lips.
Fireflies sink in darkness of punishment.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 16 november 2013
BLIND SWINGS
gradients
vivid, humbling
I was collecting a bit of myself
reading anatomy
of animality
spawning the hidden eggs
flecks of echos scarring:
reconnecting to starry night
I could not hold my enrged otherself
and the homely smell of gunshots
orchestrated to send a message of
mayhem – for optic illusion
the reptiles have broken
the law for an oceanic boat
collecting the golden fish
on the burning ghats, streetscape
full of falling leaves and
bloody wings of black crows
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 15 november 2013
DEWDROP
absence of a melody
was wrenching
on the face of a song
surface tension –
a venom creeps
surging in twin black eyes
you raise your price
in extremes
unburdening of embryonic waste
outsider
matches his death
with antiquity
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 14 november 2013
FRUGALITY
wanted to send a call to me
sitting in a flowing traffic of life, a sinister,
sadistic happiness to see the disasters
coming home, in triangle of death,
for visitation of a nihilistic visual, the wedding
of taxidermal violence, at scope of frugal
clay, moulding the age of anxiety
because there were enough girls to be raped
and hunger was disconnecting the tribes
in camps, the bunkers were safe haven
for daunting, unremembered prodigal sons;
the vultures were dying daily,
you were outcast, a sleepwalker in dark,
confronting the boundaries of labiate palms
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 14 november 2013
FRUGALITY
wanted to send a call to me
sitting in a flowing traffic of life, a sinister,
sadistic happiness to see the disasters
coming home, in triangle of death,
for visitation of a nihilistic visual, the wedding
of taxidermal violence, at scope of frugal
clay, moulding the age of anxiety
because there were enough girls to be raped
and hunger was disconnecting the tribes
in camps, the bunkers were safe haven
for daunting, unremembered prodigal sons;
the vultures were dying daily,
you were outcast, a sleepwalker in dark,
confronting the boundaries of labiate palms
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 13 november 2013
EMPTYING
perversity behind the orbs tilts,
scatters the fragile cohesion, a spectre
looms on the wrinkled face of an old tree,
the bee-eaters have flown away;
annual rings on wooden panels were defying the age
of smile on the mouth of bright doors
petitioning to the naked beams of body;
infusion of totality for antimutagens
of nude spiders weaving a lethal design:
the tender fall of deathless night on
forgetfull; I am ready to reach the bottom
of fear, bring out the poison for celebration,
unveiling the apes of tomorrow on the
black prints of dragonflies stumbling out
from golden words
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 12 november 2013
INVERTED
A tribal instinct stops the nemesis:
Spraying the blood-soaked, small
foot prints on my chest;
unlocking, I accept
myself.
why contained anger
of awesome ache over the periphery?
Through the atrophied, black limbs -
an elite infusion of trespassing knowledge?
The green adolescence was waiting in chains.
The hoarseness as from a cyanosed throat
after the sips of hemlock, the brave ascending
of a gaint stroke on the cheeks of death;
the dust will sing a farewell
to a river of tears!
End was not me on the chainsaw
a chamomile will wipe the blemishes of the Grail.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 11 november 2013
IMAGES
Bending the fluid anger, it was coming: from
anthills to natural selection, the sexual drive of a violenne;
invasive, brutal, the testosterone chasing wet thighs,
the night sweats. Kleptomania rising; castration
or helium filled masks for assisting suicides were
mutilating genes. Multiasking for eugenics? Hate and revenge
hangs a body on the turret of a tank, a wrong
for wrong. A little crown, winged pollens scattered
on brittle areola, the milky way shying away from midnight
sun. The toppled vision in blindness of a tribe
unearths the skeletons of mass murders; the
fanatics changing the face value of truths.
Images do not leave the temples.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 10 november 2013
HOISTING
A fledged reincarnation starts a carnage
before the scared skull, ribs were missing
from the pink wraps. Eye over eye opens a split
vision, to live in a shirtless thoughts, to kill
where the truth was. An accidental lover hovers over
the green breasts, full of secret grief.
All the birds on the lake have surrendered
the sun's light to extinguished nests and flown away.
The pain of yesterday now, will haunt the bride
of moon who had to abandon the baby in mud
to be watched by wolves of garlanded priests.
The tear was me, subway was me.
The skin was changing colour, camouflaged for
shame and guilt, pleading a glimpse of fire.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 9 november 2013
LITTLE TRUTHS
Deluge of criminality in the moral night;
sun was taking a plunge on the falls,
in the name of cobbled up front, for our
rise and fall in the primary casuality.
Sacred contusion, on the floor of mausoleum,
when you smell like a forgotton god, and
lie in the generosity of asylum under the downy mildew.
You cannot cry in the armless death.
History begins with starvation and murders
of innocents between the blasts. Spiders were fattening
on walls eating untangled, discarded syllables.
Punishment of defeat makes you a sex slave.
The ash smeared body must lie on doormat.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 8 november 2013
BETWEEN HUNGER AND ESCAPE
Something was not polite in signs.
The smell of incarcerated bed of gods
was floating down.
A subdued shadow of black moon
was climbing on the window. And each
house had offered a son, to rage
a war of retribution. Malice towards
one and everybody, they were ready to cut the
hands who were holding the book.
Out of the ore comes out the gold, when
you use mercury. Vacant eyes have the
veils of tears. Dampness was melting the bones.
The mud on the face, a gift of birthday.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 7 november 2013
MOURNING THE DELUGE
Something was not polite in signs.
The smell of incarcerated bed of gods
was floating down.
A subdued shadow of black moon
was climbing on the window. And each
house had offered a son, to rage
a war of retribution. Malice towards
one and everybody, they were ready to cut the
hands who were holding the book.
Out of the ore comes out the gold, when
you use mercury. Vacant eyes have the
veils of tears. Dampness was melting the bones.
The mud on the face, a gift of birthday.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 6 november 2013
ONCE UPON
Robbing the silence of heights
to undo the whole sky, you lean on
an enigma to become reverential,
elevated by an absurd system;
I was still pursuing fidelity
in the rubble of meaningless life;
not faith, but certain urge to follow
the doorway to unknown, something to be done
for the hungry child’s scream,
the truth that was not there, nor with the
inclined gods of tomorrow. Then where
shall we meet in the grazing bones
of new born human culture?
The instant music of death wish lingers on a moon
and then flies away in a kiss.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 5 november 2013
GOING NOWHERE
On the blue icicles
you were colliding with orbiting electrons
naked legs on rocking chair
were expecting the visual words to spook
for clairvoyance with the sun decline beyong borders
my eyes are damp, I know the bottom
was echoing after the shipwreck nevertheless,
archives were swimming in muddy water.
Can you defeat the throb of pain?
The fake drunkenness of bailouts, it was
still not happening - the whiteness of dawn, only
gray clouds over the peaks, speckled with
orange blooms, the shadows of red blood,
a million despairs of avenging marriages
of voices in dark sea.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 4 november 2013
TIME TO ANSWER *
This wake, I owed it to you, my defining moment:
for the raw melding, of life imprisonement
and death behind the bars. The sin had
seeped slowly in the foundations. A blurred view
of the caravan passing on the shifting sand
of quarter-century; the devastation had turned
black in smug oasis, the victim will not
become virgin again. Blind dead will monitor
the course of grievers. On to her tongue
I leave the endless stars and you will forget
the bull-dosed windows and weeping walls
of incaracerated house where the daily meals
were sex and rape; the strange shadows
of crime and pardon are breaking now
in blue sky after the defeating moon.
* After hearing the verdict on Josef Fritzl on 19th March 09
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 3 november 2013
LEAVES
Under lip's shadow
dislocated in faint moonlight
we discussed the maligned communications
between fuming monologues
of desiccsatd life. Sorcery was not able to
knife the secrets of the park, branches
and trees of memory. The game continues
in jungle of lies, blessed by lines of murder:
a divided loyality to have the last laugh.
The nose-dive for inheritance inside the flesh
lays the bones bleached white to dye
them again in pink morale:
I reach where I never intended to travel.
There is no death to mourn now. Each maggot
was ready to enter the spine of image.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 2 november 2013
* BALD AND PAINFUL
in emptiness staying aloof
to set the wings free,
a shadow self without flesh and bones
to rip out the enormity of silence
of words, cold in the face of duality
metaphysical but of somber echo of tension
between reconciliation and deep anger
causing a long flight of fantasy
of grains sprouting after self-denial at
the turf of remembering deep, it would be
a comeback for the pelting rain on the swan -
song of a sizzling desert,
the omnivorus sanity of claws in the golden
fabric of blood caked body of a star
* On the death of Jade Goody
Satish Verma
Latest comments:
4 july 2025
Jaga
Miasto jak świat cały.
4 july 2025
Subiekcja, gdy subiektywny ogląd.
3 july 2025
Belamonte/Senograsta
nie ja ale wy zaczeliscie o polityce, fałszu
3 july 2025
Weronika
Miasto zbliża się końca.
3 july 2025
Ani mnie nie kręci. Nie zmienia to faktu, że
3 july 2025
moi mili, mnie polityka nie kręci
3 july 2025
I fałszu nikt nie zliczy...
3 july 2025
Mam drugi dzień upału. Do tego gorący, suchy
3 july 2025
Też kiedyś drylowałam. Wiśnię. młodą,
3 july 2025
sam53
wybory są niepoliczalne...patrz Polska :)))
3 july 2025
zrywam wiśnie...jeszcze ze 2 wiadra i spokój...gdzie
3 july 2025
starałem się :))))
2 july 2025
wiesiek
1 july 2025
wiesiek
27 june 2025
Jaga
26 june 2025
Atanazy Pernat
23 june 2025
ajw
21 june 2025
Jaga
18 june 2025
Jaga
16 june 2025
ajw
14 june 2025
ajw
12 june 2025
Jaga