Satish Verma, 14 października 2017
Arrange the foot-candles
for candela. I am not
going on back foot.
Moon was not burning tonight.
The real darkness descends.
You brace yourself
for a crude assault.
Clouds are thinning out.
You wanted to remove
yourself from the Eros.
Was it not egregious when,
someone is shot when he was sitting quietly?
An amorous saint? Will
you be able to separate-
sex from the violence? He was-
a jester, just acting in a movie.
Satish Verma, 12 października 2017
The guile demands
some apology,
from raw stings.
Flirting with illegibility:
Mercurially hot,
there was a preempt strike.
The monsoon comes late.
You would wait for the
wet encounter.
Not seedy one;
dragging a green wound.
Ending sine die.
The white salt
on the lips will speak-
the telltale marks, of crude assault.
Who will surrender
in the end, I will
find out, covering my eyes.
Satish Verma, 12 października 2017
A shirtless detachment,
will speak
for the dead,
attaining peace!
*
Knowing oneself,
I was told,
was a very ardent
effort. I don’t know.
*
Disconcerted,
I float the words, on
lake. One day they
will reach you without rhyme.
Satish Verma, 10 października 2017
A relative lie,
becomes the truth.
Will you meet me, on the
cobbled street, where the gospels
are cowering in terror;
to find the style.
Becoming; to be a void. As if
I was not there. Unpetaled,
the ovary will ask
the bees to land immediately
on open mouths.
From the veiled moon,
comes a stifled cry.
Do not collect the peaches.
Satish Verma, 9 października 2017
Beyond dreams,
a wise lake, watching my absurdity,
of playing with the tyranny
of absolute. And I am trying
to remember, who had said,
that the core victim was me;
in simile,
to a drowning boat.
I remained,
a small seed, still
waiting till eternity to find a
thread of light, which should reach
the depth of the dust, the stone
the water, awakening me to
send my radical, going down,
down into the evasive words.
Satish Verma, 8 października 2017
It was your
integrity
at the time of ubiquitous pain
of separation, you want to move the home
away from home
coming
to terms with the trauma
your shadow was not following you
playing dead
nuzzling the earth, racing to fill
the void, entering the truthlessness
this world
of violence, of mayhem, of self-betrayal,
the flags are not able to cover the nudity
Satish Verma, 7 października 2017
Again,
a hunt will start,
incognito.
Uncorfirming
a freak. A zipless encounter
without a knife.
I am not going
to lose a blue peacock.
Light will not come.
Into the dark recess
I had planted
a time bomb
in the womb.
Give me a blight,
if you want.
Yet I am going
to sail, combing
the moon.
Satish Verma, 6 października 2017
It was your
integrity
at the time of ubiquitous pain
of separation, you want to move the home
away from home
coming
to terms with the trauma
your shadow was not following you
playing dead
nuzzling the earth, racing to fill
the void, entering the truthlessness
this world
of violence, of mayhem, of self-betrayal,
the flags are not able to cover the nudity
Satish Verma, 5 października 2017
Like a jellyfish,
In raw pain
You descend abruptly,
In abyss of peace.
There was a streak
Of animal in silicone.
The matchmakers will
Rub the sparks.
The cauldron was
Simmering with tension.
Was ready to engage
A chemical warfare.
You are sitting on
A medusoid robot.
A replica of non-god’s
Creation.
Now synchronized contractions
Will start to deliver a new baby.
Satish Verma, 4 października 2017
Surrender your shadow
to light.
Come my trenched thoughts.
An upside down
episode speaks of a missed
path, and of a blue smoke.
Have you entered
the lake to search for a
sunset is rising moon?
The house-trap again
catches you in midstream.
No peace. Eyes refuse to shut.
Bind the stars with a moon.
Let the night be blue-black.
A goddess of arson was coming.
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