Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 24 march 2017


Trending the nude prints, 
life had been dismissive, 
plucking the gray hairs from brows. 
Manipulating the dopamine 
the body’s odour 
wafted through the cluttering limbs. 
Charcoal underlines the 
need of a wounded dove. 
What else one needs from grain and water. 
The tears will sew the lids 
one day. I don’t want 
to churn the sea again. 
The dogfish comes on the 
shores for a rebuttal. 
It had never led a dog’s life.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 23 march 2017

Unsinking In Depth

You are not 
on my page. 
No more in my abstract sleep. 
will not be declared- 
in the realm of dark dreams. 
There was 
one tear at a time. 
No battle cry. 
Trampling on 
the old reminiscences, 
a tiger jumps on the author- 
of mangrove. 
The aerial roots have 
stopped breathing. 
Your lungs become 
a flute. A war song frightens 
the death.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 22 march 2017

Collecting Milkweed

I will not understand 
the gift of hurting 
in unsolicited encounters. 
Will chase you around 
the world, 
without arriving. 
O fear, my bread; 
cannot feel you, unbirthing. 
Life gives me many stitches. 
A parallel face mocks 
in the sky, unless the moon 
cries for the kiss. 
Wooden wheels move on 
the laid body. Your venomous 
tooth I break.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 21 march 2017

Fainting Spell

on the celestial pole, 
did you come 
for a lethal kiss? 
in vacuity, 
do you find some depth 
in the black hole? 
The wheels 
move on stolen track 
of an epic. You come back 
to a dead sea- 
for a swim. What looked pink 
was not a flamingo 
with a bent bill 
held upside down.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 20 march 2017

Gray Dawn

Sudden onset of an insertion 
going for a kill in bluish green valley. 
Pretend as if you are dead 
and start disintegrating. 
Your poverty of words disconnects 
you from cogitation and you start- 
walking in sleep. Cannot reach 
the breasts jutting out like pine cones - 
dismantling the invasion. You start 
manipulating the seeds. Fruits 
are nowhere in sight. The risk is 
grave crossing the borders of virginity. 
Pure aching and one thousand moons. 
I have not reached the gates of truth.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 19 march 2017

A Civil War

These were the children of 
wrath, the fire god. What I am 
watching was a subtle suicide 
pact taking on the style of a civil 
war among sparrows. 
The transmission was offering a 
dark vision of future. The skies 
were not answering the prayers. The 
old lover wants to come back in small 
land to forbid the division of hearts. 
No resonance comes after the surgical 
strike. You remember the sunset on 
the mount of your palm. I said, you 
will survive all your enemies. I 
distil the eyes for the coarse admission. 
After all the poem has a meaning.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 18 march 2017


There was no colour in the nude 
and skin deep fire was raging 
not leaving much of a trail. 
A Janus cat, 
that is our man of polity 
with two faces. 
Walking alone at midnight, 
that is larger than life, on 
death of a galaxy, where - 
the crack of dawn meets 
dandelion to decide the course 
of bloody day. They were - 
coming in huge lots to kneel 
and kiss the hands of their master, 
who will leave his signature - 
in deep cleavage. Who was 
guarding the doorway to 
my sleep?

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 17 march 2017

In Retrospect

In a moon city 
will you distill 
the darkness for a hallucinatory effect? 
Without wearing anything? 
Polarizing the sex 
with the leaky pomegranates, 
vying for control of towers. 
Will it be unrespectful, 
moon hitting the sun, when 
it was departing? 
It was a lucrative business 
to trade envies with luck 
or qualities. I feel connecting 
with the violence of brown pillars. 
Playing with smoke 
you start undressing in epithets. 
A bumblebee 
raises the sights on rooftops.

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Joe Breunig

Joe Breunig, 16 march 2017

Poem: Confirmation Bias

Between circular arguments
and confirmation bias, critics
debate the fallacies of Faith,
themselves unable to connect
to Yahweh via the divine spark
that has drawn us closer to Him;
each individual has been given
a unique measure of Faith; yet,
desire dictates the development

of our personal growth in Christ.
The Scriptures remain available
to those wishing to receive the
fullness of God’s Love or those
wanting to dispute His authority.
Now people choose to search only
for information that support…
their preconceptions; after all,
we’ve the choice of Death or Life.
Author notes

Inspired by:
Rom 12:3; 2 Cor 10:15; Eph 4:13;
Deu 30:19

It should be noted that many people studied The Word of God with the
original intent of disproving its many truths, only to become saved to
their own surprise. A fact that is ignored by the mainstream media.

Learn more about me and my poetry at:

By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2017, All rights reserved.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 16 march 2017


A chilled moon was standing 
between the lovers 
and night was cruising around 
to extract the blood 
of a hangman. 
You want to go back and talk 
to old house for selling the dreams 
again. When the body ends, 
the hunger lives in another eye. Let 
me break the cycle and become 
fodder of a thought. 
Layer up layer aching in 
half-sleep brings the frozen rain 
falling from icy peaks. You bring 
cherries for moon who wants more. 
Give me a window to have 
a glimpse of still life.

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