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	Satish Verma
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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 9 lutego 2016

Absurdity

We always searched for the center,
the dark hole of a naked mind.
World moved in concentric rings,
like onion peels.
I scream at myself,
on the absurdity of finding,
A truth which had expired.

If the trees could talk in end,
and bail out
the saint of fallen apes
I will start measuring,
the deafness of a storm,
its eyes squinting
and whose deep genitalia,
had delivered a still birth.

Why should we mourn
for the unfolding disaster?
The loneliness and despair,
are not the big themes.
And no body cares to listen,
to the ripped confessions.
A purple patch appears on the green heart.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 8 lutego 2016

Ultimate Death

The character of the myth exploded,
naked aggression on the souls started with,
meditation on death.
What was real?
The dignity of life or,
suicide of seed truth?
The classical colors were,
going to live only half-life.

Guilt was writ large, on the face of morality
and essence was always forgotton.
The kingdom had swallowed the strangers,
And king had killed the songs.
Adulterous games had become popular
every one was becoming a rengade.

Death will ultimately,
wipe out the signatures,
from the blackboard.
It would be a clean sweep.
Some body will go in trance,
start reciting a mantra,
for the sake of vanity,
and clarity of the moments of dawn.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 7 lutego 2016

Some Question Marks

Don’t go brutal in the veins
blood is diluted
life has become complex.
Barefoot truth walks,
in the sun without shadows.
We are beaten by lies.
The caste aside had a carnal thrust,
and the stars were weeping.

I will die of a primordial death one day.
What is the central theme, of present life?
It has no nuances, only the numerical strength of passions.
Question marks are leaving,
an omnipresent stink everywhere.

An awakening without,
a flame does not inspire
a hidden defeat of haloed touchstone.
I will go for a swim,
in the dead sea to taste,
the salt of all the white moons.
How would our forefathers
know the masks?

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 6 lutego 2016

Signatures

Planet earth,
they have stopped moving with me like clouds,
like trees.
Sap frozen, inertia overtaking
tongues clipped
mouth after mouth black shut.
Toads are croaking.

Incence of hate wafting
from scrolling suicides.
The terrorist is on move
from valley to valley
shrine to shrine
river to river.
Bulls in veils bellowing in dark.

Self-seeking or sensing the history?
Intentness of kill or empathy of pain?
Who were the masters hiding behind hills?
Let me choose my scratchings from unknown pen.
My paper should remain unwritten,
nobody will draw the line
nobody will put the signatures.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 5 lutego 2016

Gallows

When you were talking about purity of
Platelets
I was thinking to let the blood flow.
How easy it has become to kill now?
Is it not homecoming of the violence?

You were looking for a method to execute
yourself
and I was searching for an answer to
become free from bondage of self-contradiction.
The veins are bulging on my hands. Death
will not be happy to see me. The blood
has already frozen.

From your side and from world’s view
the ending of conscience is the right thing
But I squirm and I scream,
gallows are forever.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 4 lutego 2016

Kill

Some truth disempowers you. You wanted
to be yourself as if not to become extinct.
A negative stress
starts churning your entrails.

Zero inertia. Your body begins
rummaging the soul for a prayer
which can arouse your thoughts.

All drunk now. Flashback events.
Hallucinations.
The virtue of tongue lets go the integrity.
Bewildered, spirited flesh ultimately cracks.

The violence tumbles out. My heart
squeezes melancholy.
Soon there will be a crowd
to seek a philosophical kill.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 3 lutego 2016

The Shelter

Your own shelter of erected pretentions is beautiful
but you don’t want to come out from the cage.
Fear of falling from the cliff, cloud and sky
on the claws and pincers is terrific
which could maul, lacerate and dismember you,

You want to hide behind the arguments.
Somebody starts knocking at your head like a woodpecker
Why don’t you stick to a legend like others?

Downhill you have to come to primordial
touch of soil and smell the odor of naked bodies
toiling for seeds. Gnarled hands open the jammed
windows.

Will you know the secret of a bright lamp post
where on some night, migratory birds
were falling dead? Black fog is floating
and you are still standing on the spot from where
you started.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 2 lutego 2016

Flame

What shall I write
from the empty, desolate heart,
when every word is being scraped?

You want to clean the mess
of a lifetime,
yet labour brings loneliness
and you inherit
the depth of a problem.

A thought which has no ending.
A constant battle with yourself
in the bleak winter of age.

One by one they have died,
Your invisible gods.
The vast landscape
of knowing the truth
still remains unconquered.

Pursue you must for the sake of moment
a flame which has no heat!

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 1 lutego 2016

Crossing Time Zones

I became uniquely quiescent
like a depthless indulgence,
in shadows of conception.
The waves after waves,
of a restless continuity,
swept the floors of mind.
Anonymity of self started expanding.

Sun burns mercilessly,
on prayers of parched lips.
The breadwinner beats the chest
and the dirt of long legs
falls on the souvenirs.
With traditional pouring, we wash the sins.
It was too late for mourning.

Tears to tears, eyes
lie in wait for a miracle
which will not happen.
A longing always remains,
a dying whisper of a storm.
The desert will return with
vengeance and clouds will never come.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 31 stycznia 2016

A Hot Patch

All the wayward words
mock me for inadequacy.
I remain detached from meaning,
emigrating to eloquence of wordless solitude.
The hymen breaks.
Dumb poems cry. I don’t want to be buried
in ruins of daydreams.

Sandstorms have a strange melancholy, holocaust.
A legitimate uprooting of faith.
Sometimes I feel a hot patch
of sun on my face.
One moon away was my cool,
abode in a green painting,
but the frost never melted.

This darkness is only companion,
I will talk to winds.
The comments on riddles will continue.
A selection of memories,
will make my meditation.
The friction in history was shame.
May be love will win.

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10 - 30 - 100

Pozostałe wiersze: Metaphysics Of Shrine, Too Prudent, Collective Loss, In Your Own Temple, I Don't Know, In My Painting, To End The Poem, Never Found You, Defaulter, Virginity, Freedom From Pain, Pure As Gold, You Were Not Like Me, This Violence, Don't Sell You Thoughts, Vision In Dark, We Were Too Proud, Into Depression, In Honeymoon, In Twilight, I Am Not Changing Myself, Washing Relics, Who Was Yogi?, Street Weighs Steps, A Living Death, Repeat History, Too Proud To Bend, Rereading History, Pain Of Pain, Thou Shall Not Cry, Deep Fears, In Coexistence, Understanding Me, O God, The Penultimate, In God's Shadow, January Cool, Sending My Hymns, Sending My Hymns, I Knelt In Flames, Hyperaesthesia, After Separations, Incomplete Thoughts, To Tell The Truth, Bizarre Phenomenon, Scoliosis, Noises Of Stampede, Laws Of Chemistry, Love To Violence, Prayer Starts, After The Body, Your Thoughts Live Around Me, My Blood, My Bones, Moon Slept In My Arms, In Cross-Hairs, Out Of Honey, Ocean Sinks, Looking At Past, Not Heart Broken, A Patriarch Maps, By Sparks Stay Young, Inheriting The Dust, Death In Peace, In Dragnet, My Craft Trembles, The Adored Angel, Untold Story, In Blue Darkness, Will You Know?, Inventory Of Pain, Till Every Song, Felling A Tree, Love And Revenge, Anchor Buried In Clouds, Walking In Twilight, Hope Dies Daily, Footprints On Sands, Amaryllis Blooms, Analysing Myself, Beauty Of Truth, Moonwhite Heart, It Was Not Your Refusal, Fire Game, Chained Love, Pink Bruises, Waning Moon, Waning Moon, Sea Will Drag Me, There Was Ample Pain, If You Are A Human Being, Equality, Sun Was Cooling, Bee-Stings, Lost In Thoughts, In Order Of Being, Smoking Guns, Come To Me As You Are?, Freak Happenings, Character, Dreamscapes, I Think, I Don't Exist, Reincarnation, My Gifts, Pure Like Flames, Unseeking, Reapers Are Here, God It Kills, Body Was Temple, Divine Losses, Winter Tales, Green And Red, No Preface, My Scars Were Red, Don't Grieve For Me, Pain Of Surrender, A Renaissance, Repeating Pain, Deep Inside, When Truth Was Exhumed, It Was My Pain, How Much Certain You Were?, In Cupped Lakes, Saviour Was Sad, Space Walk, Where Will You Go?, Dust Under Feet, Priest Writes On Wall, Deciphering, We Will Not Come Back, Over Your Dream, Watching A Miracle, No Complaints, Between Whips And Tether, Travesty Of Truth, The Saga Of Breakup, The Saga Of Breakup, Playing Chess, The Trial, Leaves Are Changing Colors, Broken Bridges, Misty Memories, In Temperature, O Trinity, Studying Life, Nonetheless, I Write With Red Ink, Everything Is Black, Tangerines Sing, Touching Everywhere, Taking Revenge,

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