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	Satish Verma
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Satish Verma, 16 lutego 2014

MY TABOO

Hollyhocks will not let me go;
hold my hands.
Shying away
they were turning to ashes.

In the night, wisteria
emanates a hungry cry.
Though wind had announced
sun has not kept the promise.

I gasp for the body silver
like ancient lust,
pure and paranoid –
asking for the head of a spider.

This non-violent resistance
seeks more space to pasteurize
the beautiful milk in gold containers.
A passion flower was going to melt.

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 15 lutego 2014

MEDALS AND AWARDS

In a school of murder a hub of
terror survives.
An acid attack on face
captures the contradictions of first nervous countdown.

Step aside my truth, my tears
are under siege. The schizophrenic
will draw a landscape
of falling earth.

Tonight a visual poem will come alive
on a dirty screen of life.
Words were written like mercy
on the hands.

Why the face wears no smile?
Hard core pornography of blueberries survives
amidst the shooting and explosions.
The nymphs were waiting in the heaven!

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 14 lutego 2014

CROSSING

The body was arched in a denial mode
on the rose bed, unsettling human emotion
in the train of lots. A broken chain
of thoughts outranking the holiness of crime.
I am not getting the signals of fire, sparks
or flames. Only smoke on the mirror. It was
becoming a murder, discarding the clay, terracotta,
color in Indian summer. A sensuous dance
begins, on the mobiles. The portfolio contains the
numbers of streets for total annihilation so
the visual footprints will disappear. The mathematical
progress of genes halts. Million fingers will
write history of wailing waves, frightened
of hot winds.

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 13 lutego 2014

ANOTHER TRIAL

Liquidity crunch turns you
into lip slave.
The candlelight bed has the broken legs.
Asleep by the boat you sway in dark.
You are still a number in the books to be fed.
A jigsaw puzzle in the economic boom
starts a jihad. Here I am waiting for you
to start a crusade against the falling stars.
The encounter turns bloody. Shoot out for innocents.
Kids and women, criss-crossing the path of hate.
I was not ready for this disgrace of religion.
The king was making it free below poverty line.
Every wound will be addressed and healed.

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 12 lutego 2014

AGAINST THOUGHTS

The lake was drying up
touching raw nerves.
Epicenter of violence was standing
on gun powder-

nursing charity groups
which were spewing hot lava.
This war was different, wearing masks
played by gloved hands.

The face in the crowd
was twisting the knobs of nuclear doors.
A tender haze over the winter
of relationship. The stones were smiling.

The dance of the road, I am the lone
survivor of genocide to witness
the romance of death, the nameless
liberation.

Can you negate this matrix? This fall
of becoming? I smear the ashes
on forehead of history and squander
my poems.

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 11 lutego 2014

A SMALL CHANCE

Standing on a sandisland
I was looking at the landscape
of the aura of a lobbied avatar.
The chill was spreading on the river unfazed.

The sassafras had a logistics network
to penetrate in the oysters, becoming
grayish white pearls of wisdom.
It will protect you from any insult.

When the temple of learning was
being rebuilt, the words were finding
an echo in sky’s fear of abduction.
The sun was hiding behind the lies.

In a trance I move unmindful
of interbreeding. Some grizzly thoughts
were near the cave of skeletons. The
panther was readying to jump out.

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 6 lutego 2014

OBTUSE MYSELF

The hard core cult was fixing
the flies on the podium.
A snapdragon becomes a cannibal
devouring its own seeds.

Beyond insanity lies the phantom zone
where you hang upside down your faith.

A lunatic threatens to jump
from high tomb –
after excavating the remains of
a forbidden fear.

There was nothing except the
worn rags of a fakir.

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 5 lutego 2014

HISTORY

Focused on burgundy palms
as the age blinks,
you start distressing on a unipolar
pinnacle, biting the nails.
The road absorbs the horizon.

Perched on a controversial tree
the birds break into small events
to reach the grass roots. A transparent question
always chases you about the consequence
of a war with troubled priests.

Do we need nitrous oxide to offset the gloom
of hovering religion? One enchanted
crowd spills in copycats to bring about
a revolution in ranks who were busy
in translating the epics of past.

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 4 lutego 2014

AGELESS

Too beholden to water of life.
It hurts deliberately when you were thirsty.

You break the bread in reflective mood.
Who will climb the cross today?

The sheen was wearing off the smug faces
Civil war was starting again.

The declinist god was weeping soundlessly.
Someone shot the flamingoes in flight.

Militias have started the bloodletting.
Painfully I was collecting the sounds.

A new world begins on broken plasma.
Electrons have shifted their orbits.

A dog sniffs a freshly dug mound of earth.
Instead of a body a wreath was found.

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 3 lutego 2014

VICTORY OF FALL

One unthinkably hostile debate
started in a colosseum:
a path to kill the clemency.
A comatose truth was listening to lies.

They were pointingly arguing about
the nukes option to bring about the peace
and prosperity on the strife torn earth.
Total anihilation will initiate a new world.

Troubled times; the failure of sacramental thread
to tie the god. The king presides over
the sweaty palms which failed the swords.
Deprivation will breed the contempt for theater.

Horses were ready to disobey the order.
Shoes were thrown on altar.
The eyes were everywhere in the wounds, stained
with guilt, never to celebrate the victory.

Satish Verma