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Poetry

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

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Satish Verma, 10 october 2013

ARROGANCE

Sometimes it pours like hot
drips of melted wax from a candlestick;
your migraine.

I wanted armistice.
Untangle the lies,
I am not in your firing line.

The tulips in the barrel of your gun
cannot forgive the bullets.
There will be no ceremony after the funeral.

Give a slice of blue departure
of moon to light the beach,
there was a brutal murder on the lake

among the muffled waves of protest
in the home of insanes, who were
praying for the sun to return.

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 9 october 2013

GREEN NIGHT

Deep down thighs, unhoisted,
what was there, harvesting the sperms? At dusk
an inflorescence breaks into myriads
of fireworks, wrecked apologia,
interned unlikeness, insanity, kissing the goldenrod
to start the flow of bare grief.

I deserve no nobility, my moonscape
has a blazing truth about a shooting star
which went into a gape groaning. Somebody
is done for, for a fragile skull. The riverbed
buries the dead child in white sands.

That lump rises again. I said, I never carry
the death on my shoulders. Wrap up and play
the drums for I lost the pathways to enemie

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 8 october 2013

GENERATION

untouchable that bleeds, lonely
in black sky, that haunting moon
walks gingerly on quivering sea:
lovers killed in shame in broad daylight
by gunshots before a crowd; some possessed
maniacs turning the clock back: history
lets go the leaves, the autumn,

trees stand naked, not malevolent
but want to poach upon the wrong side
of faith; my vision starts failing,
crosses the river in ancient lingua franca
joining the broken hearts

i was apprehensive, clouds come and
go, each death becomes a daisy

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 7 october 2013

LOCKED

Stealing stones from skinny faces
snipers scratch the colors
of a withered moon at night.

It was anti-rape rally, the footsteps
falling in unison, the blood running out
of strange fruits

and we topple the golden grass under
the toes, hissing at tall trees who could
not protect us from descending fog.

There was no truce. They will not
lay down the arms on table before
sun rises to resuscitate.

The pilot has died on controls. Snarled-up
fingers will not let go the wheels.
The pain has no other name.

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 6 october 2013

DEATH'S WINGS

Tryst with enemy
bakes the earth.
I am standing firm on dust of times
with rising threat. In vloaks, under the fading
moon they had come,
plundered my yard of truth and blackened
the face of an ancient statue of sun god.

The terror walks on streets
sequencing the genome of unborns
in womb; soot was settling in the lungs
of windows. Tomorrow night word by word
memory will be mauled, uncovering
the pyramids of fear.

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 5 october 2013

VEILED INFERNO

Take it to the doors of heart:
features are same,
of whores and nuns.

Small steps, big hands
move towards the blood-gates of ropes
to pluck the thorns from books.

Tomorrow was yet to come.
Today it is bloodbath
in river of slogans

Afterword was mine.
The candle will burn for whole night
in different colors.

Who was outsider
in the shivering crowd?
Let everybody shed the mask

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 4 october 2013

WARFRONT

The spectre of falling towers in night
unfolds in awe.
A reclusive star rises in east at dawn.

Heart of pig was being readied
for implant, tallies with the seizured
hollow of a man.

A young girl of seventeen, comes for
a rendezvous with a terrorist,
eats the bullets for a damned nether land.

Every one was angry after
the explosion. Only truth had a slit of smile
in the smokescreen of contenders.

A dialogue on violence must start
to know the reality of nirvana
fear will not end, ending of fear.

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 3 october 2013

BEAST AND LOVERS

In the orbit, fear was invisible;
was not seeking anything, just wanted
to become a stone;

break my body into seven rocks,
each one becoming a rhyme
never to die;

said, I am, now, is, not mildewed
past, not grizzly future.
Every moment myself.

Tree, river, cloud and mount
become aboriginal alphabets.
Sun walks alone.

Behind the death, another miracle
seals the lips of a dumb;
Only eyes will speak now.

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 2 october 2013

BITES

One wardrobe malfunction
was a blast, a kill;
undressing imagination.
I was ready for an ambush.

Like boa's grip, entwined, strangulating,
hardly breathing. I am in blue water
like a humpback whale;
donot go for the revenge.

It was not the fabric of flesh
hair and bones. I was tasting
the ash falling off the forehead
of a fallen saint.

The smile was going up for sale
in a gulp of greed.
Tomorrow morning I will find
amnion shaved on street.

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 1 october 2013

ENOUGH

A leached amputee
living with stumps of flawless
dying.

Round and round, blindfolded
moving in circle, drawn by rhyming
bells.

Perhaps you need to suffer
with the drunken race of
snipers.

I am in the silent valley of
barefoot secrets where moon waits to
die.

The poppies will buy the bullets,
a gift to unending kiss of
grief.

Tell every vulture on the tree,
there is endless arrival of
feasts.

Satish Verma