Satish Verma, 4 października 2013
The spectre of falling towers in night
unfolds in awe.
A reclusive star rises in east at dawn.
Heart of pig was being readied
for implant, tallies with the seizured
hollow of a man.
A young girl of seventeen, comes for
a rendezvous with a terrorist,
eats the bullets for a damned nether land.
Every one was angry after
the explosion. Only truth had a slit of smile
in the smokescreen of contenders.
A dialogue on violence must start
to know the reality of nirvana
fear will not end, ending of fear.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 5 października 2013
Take it to the doors of heart:
features are same,
of whores and nuns.
Small steps, big hands
move towards the blood-gates of ropes
to pluck the thorns from books.
Tomorrow was yet to come.
Today it is bloodbath
in river of slogans
Afterword was mine.
The candle will burn for whole night
in different colors.
Who was outsider
in the shivering crowd?
Let everybody shed the mask
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 6 października 2013
Tryst with enemy
bakes the earth.
I am standing firm on dust of times
with rising threat. In vloaks, under the fading
moon they had come,
plundered my yard of truth and blackened
the face of an ancient statue of sun god.
The terror walks on streets
sequencing the genome of unborns
in womb; soot was settling in the lungs
of windows. Tomorrow night word by word
memory will be mauled, uncovering
the pyramids of fear.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 7 października 2013
Stealing stones from skinny faces
snipers scratch the colors
of a withered moon at night.
It was anti-rape rally, the footsteps
falling in unison, the blood running out
of strange fruits
and we topple the golden grass under
the toes, hissing at tall trees who could
not protect us from descending fog.
There was no truce. They will not
lay down the arms on table before
sun rises to resuscitate.
The pilot has died on controls. Snarled-up
fingers will not let go the wheels.
The pain has no other name.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 8 października 2013
untouchable that bleeds, lonely
in black sky, that haunting moon
walks gingerly on quivering sea:
lovers killed in shame in broad daylight
by gunshots before a crowd; some possessed
maniacs turning the clock back: history
lets go the leaves, the autumn,
trees stand naked, not malevolent
but want to poach upon the wrong side
of faith; my vision starts failing,
crosses the river in ancient lingua franca
joining the broken hearts
i was apprehensive, clouds come and
go, each death becomes a daisy
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 9 października 2013
Deep down thighs, unhoisted,
what was there, harvesting the sperms? At dusk
an inflorescence breaks into myriads
of fireworks, wrecked apologia,
interned unlikeness, insanity, kissing the goldenrod
to start the flow of bare grief.
I deserve no nobility, my moonscape
has a blazing truth about a shooting star
which went into a gape groaning. Somebody
is done for, for a fragile skull. The riverbed
buries the dead child in white sands.
That lump rises again. I said, I never carry
the death on my shoulders. Wrap up and play
the drums for I lost the pathways to enemie
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 10 października 2013
Sometimes it pours like hot
drips of melted wax from a candlestick;
your migraine.
I wanted armistice.
Untangle the lies,
I am not in your firing line.
The tulips in the barrel of your gun
cannot forgive the bullets.
There will be no ceremony after the funeral.
Give a slice of blue departure
of moon to light the beach,
there was a brutal murder on the lake
among the muffled waves of protest
in the home of insanes, who were
praying for the sun to return.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 11 października 2013
today i am not one whole, placid;
blood streaked globe of full moon
was hovering over me all night
to freeze a ruined landscape, i was
not ready for the departure, untying
the knots of water, like the storm opening
the mouth of a hidden cave in a deep sea,
there was anything unsaid between us,
a new verb joining strange nouns, the lips
swimming in coral tears, amid the frail
words of assaults and wounds of fractured
signatures; in the end are left only the orbits
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 12 października 2013
unhinged i wake
tying ribbon around the tree
of amnesia, the butterfly startles,
despairs the blue of humility,
all i wanted was the silence
of ceremony to greet the prosperity
of death in valley of graves, the hungry
hyenas appreciating the art of killing
and the mourning fathers chasing the
shades of walking palms in rains
to remind the commitment of clocks
for stopping the fury of times: love,
let it go, it sucks the eyes, starting
convulsions, the moon hangs low to
feel the demon
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 14 października 2013
nothing is left to say,
the wandering cloud was bleeding
for white moon,
the elements, the purity, the ligaments
are fake, joints are festering
with fever on burntout resins;
the name floats in millions of veins,
tell me the fault line of tremors,
a mass burial was on way,
the surge of deadly intent
in this night of black spiders
in eternal pursuit of murder, unpalming
thousand hurts, poppies kissing the eyes
of ravaged shutters, locks broken
and ivory taken away
Satish Verma
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