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	Satish Verma
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Satish Verma, 2 lipca 2012

VANITIES

Was that a robot
claiming friendship
with the relics of past?

Or a quirk of a raw nerve
conversing with history:
and we will wait for centuries

to build a new scream
under the pale moon
in wingless night.

Whispering sex to flowers,
bees scrambled on the skin
of wooly leaves.

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 1 lipca 2012

I KNOW ME

It was a freak accident of epithelium
under anaesthesia.
You place a window
on to a hollow brain.

The money makes the monkey out of you.
A green light
blocks the fish, your memory,
to swim in black thoughts.

The yellow rose burns
in your hand. It was beginning of
a domestic race. The nightmares will
take care of the sleep.

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 29 czerwca 2012

MOOD SWINGS

Must I give you
the chilled truth of dry winds
till the fire
reaches the backyard?

The half-thumb
was held by the wheels.
Why you were pushing
the hearse
of a dead lie?

Anonymus
was the letter written by moon
to the damp cloud.
The rain drops will never
agree for the trysts.

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 28 czerwca 2012

INFINITY

Drowning in my blood
the vampire had
the lapse of consciousness.
I embraced the night
without moon.

Why does it happen
day in and day out?
You allowed the blood sucking
which was the choice for unanswering
of unpleasent questions.

I survive in death
staining the shirt,
keeping the footsteps waiting.
I had kissed a light
falling on the squirming dark.

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 27 czerwca 2012

UNMADE FUTURE

A golden cave was afraid
Of a blue thrust.
Hands were not able to console
the mirror.

Let us step back for a
last laugh. You were talking
to yourself when the canary was
set free from the house arrest.

Ah, the paradise, after all, was
a myth. You had to beg for a violin
for democracy and stoop to pick
up a horsehair bow for playing the anthem.

You had cut your fingers in a fake war
with the moon.It was a miracle
knocking out the stars. A self-made
wound will never need the sutures.

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 26 czerwca 2012

GIFTING

O viola,
go over the grapes
and find an ageless green.

It is difficult
to be born
again, undoing death.

You swoon
at the continuity
of crossroads –

with blue flags
in your bowl.
A rosette,

without a winner.
A birthday gift
for all the failures.

At seventy five
you walk over a prairie
to find a shade.

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 25 czerwca 2012

UMBRELLA

Like a brazen
dancer of night.
A phantom?
With heart on chest;
floating in air,
like a death-scarf.

You have donated
the body for an angel-
petrifying the moon.

The hairy saint
was unquiet,
in a glass house.

Who had delivered
the letter to god?
I pledge to stay alive.

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 24 czerwca 2012

BEWILDERING

The restless legs take you,
weightless, to marshes
to find the stilts.
The sea was rising.

What was inside our tongues;
such unclosing stink,
we were afraid to spit it out?
The wronged angels were waiting.

A topless soul wanders in the
rainforest.Amazing, the tigers were
dead without wounds.You sit on
the window for marrying a moon.

The quick grafting of the roses was
useless.All night it had rained. The hail-
tones were as big as skulls. Eyes were
gouged out and time was blind.

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 22 czerwca 2012

SUNFLOWERS

A preacher was shedding
dirty tears
for burning hills.

Pinned up on tongue
was a slogan.
Death for all sunflowers.

Draped in blood
who was trespassing
the sickle moon?

I cannot raise the mist
where you stand naked
in sunlight.

Somebody has killed
the pathological god.
I am starting a new kitchen.

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 21 czerwca 2012

HOMONYM

Don’t you agree with my ability
to loosen up on our times in no night?
A river thing was flowing
through foliaged silence.

In deranged hour of the
neck tie, you throw up obscenity
on road. What? Chicken hearted?
Sickle cell anemia?

Goat rioting before sacrifice: -
the tiny feet will dropp from heaven
to walk in blood and bless you
for dispatching the head of unlove.

The night hawk butchers the hope,
if the baby owl cries again. Afraid,
I am going to take a flight
to yellowing moon.

Satish Verma