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	Satish Verma
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Satish Verma, 20 grudnia 2013

TIME’S BURDEN

I am not too well, he felt.
The flames chased him in charred landscape.

Fighting over, he pondered about the
crime within, the surge to find a nest hole.

A wounded pride where the salmonella hits.
You enter a slot for more enticements.

Any patch of vague tragedy among the barren
desirability, shares the accident with sacrifice.

Unhappy, you reverse the mode of retrieving
against the terms of swimming alone.

Where was the death’s arc to capture
the mistakes of life? Was an archaism

sufficient to kill the untruth? No implant
will enhance the height of achievement.

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 19 grudnia 2013

BENEATH THE SKIN

It was not a demigod, elephantiasis
of a beast, snakes sitting on head. A catastrophic

tree view.I was proud of being alive during
carpet-bombing. A catnip was needed to clear

the vision. The town was moving out shedding
its landmarks. Nocturnal flares were disturbing

the lovers. A chronic shift in sex starved
season. The birds had stopped going behind

the bushes. Each day seeks permission to bury
the dead, and grass waits for the noble feet.

Ultra hemo cover was not there. Drained out
we were becoming pale to account for the loss

of blood in cross-firing. Ultimate pain in chest
will unburden the task of a funeral prayer.

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 18 grudnia 2013

NEW VERSION

even vultures will not devour the proffered
war time victims, ruined was the impression
of untitled sacrifice, a wild anemone

slips into the river of blood, I tend to forget
the faces of embers –

arson by apostles of peace, it has become a commodity,

oppression releases a promise for optic illusion
through large-prints

a near miss when the truth chokes to death,
suicidal full of nerves-

the hills tremble in anticipation, lambs
were dropping dead on a green patch

such obligation

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 17 grudnia 2013

GRAY HANDS

It is neither end nor beginning, I am
still suspended between punishments, primrose
gives one answer, hollyhock another, I
catch the moon in flight to west and
enter a sand grain to probe the universe

for the sexual selection of a terror bomb,

harbinger of mass destruction, give me some
asparagus to uproot the cancer for the sake
of a humane evolution: bougainvilleas are

not blooming and in twilight I wait for the two
eyes of a panther which start blazing in a dark cave,
she was expecting to deliver her first progeny
of gentle cubs

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 15 grudnia 2013

PRIVATE MOORINGS

searching for words in continuum of
incompleteness, it was a trickle at first, then
a free fall, cerebral fury: I am becoming expansive,
so apposed to verbatim of shrieks, only

in whispers I will talk to delphiniums,
I would walk inside the time capsule, come
and sit besides me for a while, I am tired of

this ghost town, and fleeing shadows of
waning luminories on the horizon in

half-naked blooms; on different shores
U-boats are being lowered with torpedos. I am

waiting for the hurricane

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 9 grudnia 2013

de……..

When hope returns, will you be in
alternative mind?

Like a praying mantis brooding for a prey
in a bowl of momentum while I have a
sense of alienation collecting a cloud of

Memories ripping open the gates of tears
and blood for the human cost of dementia;
the disorientation was not complete in

Orthomolecular state, a suicidal visit will also
not bring the diagnosis of pain and iridium hole
of perception in a concentration camp for
searching a bomber base, whether milk thistle

Drags the fears out of the bodies and heals.
I would not come back to hemiplegic wisdom
of the land that was lost centuries back to
occuping, omnipresent knowledge, the eagle
had burned his wings in holy fire!

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 8 grudnia 2013

TENDER FALL

This bonded fear bids for power,
Will I destroy myself in valley of puppets?
War in dreams,
of sins and morals of masked pretentions
wears me off. Time rolls violently
near the periphery, before it flies away.

One chaste run to the shadow of sorrow
burns you alive. Sitting on a heap of sandlewood
you turn into ashes, the sweet aroma
drifting between its rights and wrongs,
evasions and commitments,
hunting for the truth.

Great exodus of principles in green
martyrdom, brings out the blood from the color
of terracotta. The figures on the walls
start talking in falling light, de-icing
the sun, like the dust on this side of dark.
The violence rises again.

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 7 grudnia 2013

UNLOST EXISTENCE

When an embryo was growing in a petri dish
I said this is it my adieu
for I am now ready for a new journey of self denial
a skull in my lap
after the abdication of ancient fear
the eyes of buttercups poked with hot iron rods
a hoe breaking the neck of a bowed man
to humanize an ugly beast
my fragile hands make a cup to collect the light
of a fading sun to pour on the stillness
of the dream’s dark roaring
that’s how a pinned butterfly becomes
resigned for capitulation

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 6 grudnia 2013

ONCE MORE

He nearly jumped
from the cliff shrinking back to
the old avatar.

Crossing the dawn in
winter of life for a gift
of the autumn.

It never ends for-
the tears, which lighten up
the candle in dark.

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 3 grudnia 2013

UNBELIEVING

Today gives me an ethernal hurting
of the raging night, my moon had crashed
on the wings of flamingoes

While saying farewell to crying winds of the
creek when waves slapping sideways on crazy
shores of silence, another watchman of sweets.

Impared longing till it starts burning
under the eyes, so I am the priest and I am the god
of wasteland incisible in drifting dust

Of voicelessness on the doors of schizophrenia
in order to stay dane amist the freedom of violence
of uncaught heydays of drag queens in transgender

Era of dragons and quivering flash of tempers
between breasts of hills in a green sky it would
be sleepless mystry of gullible hounds

Satish Verma