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	Satish Verma
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Satish Verma, 19 marca 2012

Revelations

Winter topples the
sting
of muddled tongue.

The bottle
breaks the stasis
of eye.

I cede the smile
of history.
Somebody has left the home.

I become my enemy
in dark
for the acid taste of truth.

The moon
had the malignant stain.
My shirt has become dirty.

O god,
I never believed in you
nor in your ugly world!

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 19 marca 2012

RECAPITULATION

Let us talk today
of crazed times,
so that the trade of
ethical falls runs.

When dawn breaks
on the stunned silence
of moon, I start unfolding
the black sun.

Ah, a poetry wound
aches my world, knee deep
in blue veins, to find
the lost river of tears.

Give me a song, a word
a phrase, to grow old.

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 17 marca 2012

Swan Song

The toppled gravestones,
I still count the heads.
I will go with your swan song,
the bond erupts.

You were always sitting under the
bougainvillea, waiting for the swallow.
The next door summer arrives;
Why did you say, it was biting cold?

The door shuts on the moon.
It was obviously very dark,
and I was searching the space
between ’yes’ and ‘no’.

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 17 marca 2012

Lame Duck

A lame duck re-emerges
from water of life,
after paying for night of clouds.

The sex determines
the economy of a nation and democracy
writes the future of a man.

Who was bankrupt
in poor country of rich people?
You were the boss of a pavement.

The helplessness of a poetic justice
was writ large on your face.
A dog was throwing the bone for the poor.

A fierce battle was raging
between the sun and the moon.
The stars have eloped with the winds.

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 15 marca 2012

Making History

Pull out the pellets
from my chest, I had fallen
in a brutal crackdown.
A black moon was taking revenge.

You were staring
straight in the eyes of death.
The biker,
has lost the charisma.

The apples
were never so sweet.
Bursting out of the battle lines
ready to shoot.

A black hole
was calling. To take
a final jump of art
into believing?

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 14 marca 2012

SOMETHING WILD

That fugitive dream
of shrinkage:
a room in a room
a door in a door.
You were hurting the house affairs
at midnight.

The space accident
starts dismanteling the life.
Selective pain
comes again.
You start distancing from story touch,
long vision.

The canary brings down
the roof. Somebody was leaving.
The eyes will search another sky,
another tree.
In a light slumber
another fall from the perch.

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 14 marca 2012

THE SIEGE

Dual fall of the brass.
From the bine,
from the bliss of flower strength.
An apparition
of infiniteness of agony.
Becoming one with failures.

It tends to stay
and enters the forbidden city
of endless gods.Me beseeching, imploring
to remain poor of any treasure.
The mysterious pain
a trap cannot catch.

Oh, pass on a cloud
my eyes want to rain.

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 11 marca 2012

Serial Blasts

Crushing the tangerines,
escalating the dissent
of lean eyes
for a slaughter in the trench.

Unadorned, the little soft
hole, I watch
display of hair,
teeth and shoes.

Who had conceived
the invasion?
Time clock, you need
a prosthesis to move.

Dehumanize the littered
street. This has become the empire
of death. No crying would
be allowed under the feet.

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 10 marca 2012

Washed-Out

Slashing the surged monarchy
of celibates
stoking the fire of wounds,

the turret locks on to a target
taking off the gloves.
The mountain was rising.

A sheet of the floating ice
disturbs the ecology
of heart. I place my candle in storm.

The missils had failed.
Only the words were flying from
bare lips for entreaties.

Oversexed like a shoe-flower
O, mad enemy
I am pouring out the red sea.

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 9 marca 2012

Leviathans

You had dug in deep
to undo the garden.
Civil war started
between the yawning wounds.

Whose side was time:
in burning well of oil?
The autocracy will bleed
the earth till death.

An island in the canal
holds the ship of man.
For whom flows the river
in smouldering woods of hate?

Each matter, antimatter,
circles around the world,
trembles under the eyelids
and asks for a name.

Satish Verma