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	Satish Verma
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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 5 czerwca 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 czerwca 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 czerwca 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 czerwca 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 czerwca 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 maja 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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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 29 maja 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 maja 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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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 27 maja 2018

Lamenting

For unspoken answers,
there was always the─
question, why hawks
were needing the peace?

Tied to innate fringes,
I want an explicit display.
The prologue was very
misleading.

War was inside and
outside. Were you a hobbes-
ian? I am not afraid
of death.

Reacted so violently.
The colored shirts should be
taken off. Let us see
the scars!

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 26 maja 2018

A Love Song

When the intellect was
defiling the unwritten book;
half-read, you reach for epiphancy.

Why you had to kill yourself
on the swing, before reaching─
the peak? Searching for escape?

I cannot know you, O flame.
Do not go beyond the sky.
My wings twist like nasturtiums.

Last night a city wept in─
my arms. There were no roses─
left and, no cut glass nudes.

They bleed, when you dig
out the roots. The croci were
planted by me when snow had melted.

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