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	Satish Verma
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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 22 grudnia 2014

ONE HUNDRED MOONS

On the battle turfs of a vernacular
hunger, the hikes were killing
the uncertain values. Committing suicide
was a regular feature.

To pay off the debts of a flag.
By using pesticides on unsuspecting
guests of tomorrow.
The clocks were set one century back.

What could be done of an anonymous
terror bomb placed in a lunchbox?
Do we wait for an accident?
Who will open it?

All summer, one hundred moons
I will wash your face
to read the command.
Who had put the stiletto in your hand?

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 21 grudnia 2014

ACOUSTICS ARE NOT WORKING

Maimed, tortured for love of resistance
this night appears to be
without an end.
There was nothing to lose,
it was looking for some reason
to die on the side of a cloud
when the sickle moon was sailing.

Tomorrow a new lie will be born.
Even a suicide bomber
will be tossed around,
like a new coin.
Weaving a dress of skin and bones
in the little sky of so many
purple birds.

Acoustics are not working
walls have no doors.
By night only a torch will be moving.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 20 grudnia 2014

BONES OF WINDS

Inside, the battle wages.
One step down,
I drown myself in the frowns
of a thought. Night sucks at my fear.

The rhyme of the fading moon
intends to fix me up.
I refuse to smell the breath
of the catch.

I bloom on the pain,
sweetened kill of the day. An empty jump
in void of a portrait;
shaking wall.

Watercolors were ruined
by smudging the reasons.
Clutching the bones of winds, falling
from the sky.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 19 grudnia 2014

CROWD AT THE MORGUE

A new planet was taking birth.
Stem cells were coming out of
obedience to carnality.
For resuscitation from kiss of death
faith was at its best in its witchcraft.

Complete blood count failed,
to diagnose the strange madness.
It was a whirling chemistry.
The transmitters merely took in
the sin, the insanity.

A huge crowd collected at the morgue
to collect the severed limbs,
after the death of a sun.
Picking the scars of dark
and slaughtered tomorrow.

The rage of sunrise will come back.
One day the clouds will burst open. Yes
the death will come as a bride.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 18 grudnia 2014

BABY GOD

Carrying my words in a small jewel box
I was listening to silence
of falling rain,
to heal my truth.

A blueberry moon
was peeking from behind the hills.
Crazy clouds
started a celebration.

Sometimes you want to stop
in your tracks and look back
with doleful eyes. Was it important to collect red roses,
suicide notes, purple robes for seeking liberation?

The baby god I wanted to laugh with,
does not smile anymore.
His tinkles lie buried in heap of dust
in your skinny heart.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 17 grudnia 2014

OF PERSONAL GOD

Ready to dismember the red geraniums
rains had no mercy.
Thunder did not show any preference
and hails had felled the pride
of tall grass.

Denuded, the hungry man
walked towards liberty.
Moral tapestry in scape after scape
cried,
the mystery endured the cradle –

Of personal god.
But I bled my truth in wilderness
to impose the religion,
of a non-believer,
for obedience to natural laws.

Talking to divine
brings relief. The direct, face to face
confrontation, for a twig of faith.
I pick up the seeds
for the sake of eternity.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 16 grudnia 2014

BREAD OF A MOON

For little grains of truth,
listening to intuition
he disrobed – and walked into river
to die.

In the footsteps of silence
to eat bread of a moon
facing the onslaughts of life.

Death walks in stealthily,
pays the price of hunger
to the ruins of a fortress.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 15 grudnia 2014

INWARD JOURNEY

And the lineage of existence
does not fade.

I try to wipe off, the heavy showers of
death, daily.

The pains were rising, in every word,
in every talk.

As part of nothingness, I was trying to find
happiness.

Put the shadows down, touch the questions
again.

The mentor wants blood, truth was in body,
small seeds of life.

Wrapped up, dry, cryptic, to suck at the
fears of birth.

You are becoming a tree, roots, branches, leaves
against a serial killer.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 14 grudnia 2014

AN ACID RAIN

This is it, I want to say.
An acid rain falling each evening
and you, reading a poem
surrounded by flame – attendants.

Nothing moves farther than activism.
Conversation centers around the flares
on the surface of an orange sun,
a big hole coming up in the ozone layer.

You are an ocean, needs penetration
of inquiry. Running a relay race in
a big cage to keep the torch
burning. Clouds in the sky

objecting to full moon, coming up,
nonchalantly. Landscape rips – off
the ideas from the thorn
in the heart.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 13 grudnia 2014

PACEMAKER

Hunger comes back like a dagger
on face. With iris and fingerprints.
Live, fluttering butterflies, stuck
on lampshades. Wrecked, frozen, the ending
of seeming. Men in cages.

They were diluting the culture.
Chlorophyll siphoned off. No color,
no sprouts. The roads were dirty
with the ultimate truth, quarreling with the
water, insanity and vertebrae.

The creamy stuff, shouts and pants,
shunting the definitions. People come
and go from the paintings. There is no age bar.
Spring will be released from the impulses
of flesh in naked zones.

Ideas become pacemaker, for the ailing
heart of polity.

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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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