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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 19 august 2017

Endoskeleton

For a good road map you need
whistling words and biting
flies of porn videos.

You go overboard when you
see a virgin falling from
podium of a hundred smiles.

Sitting in skin only who wants
a tattoo of a butterfly, when
the book goes for a sale?

Gettysburg water for the joints.
Do you need some of it when
the economy has pored off the poems?

A courtesan becomes the bride
of the city. The grooms were many
but no body wants to sit on a mare.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 18 august 2017

Blue Heights

There was an unease in the flock
of lovebirds. The lynx was on
calling again every night.

An execution on a wheel
was a better choice
than to die without speed of kill.

Cannibalism becomes alive
when you start eating live-
words without shedding a dropp of blood.

What was the urgency to invite
Ginsberg on paper? The ink
was still superstitious.

It was invisible.
The destruction of an impregnable.
When the moon explodes, where will you go?

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 17 august 2017

My Revenge

No thought was enough
from a stunning fall.
I am leaving the paradise.

In urn the past moves like
a weightless peony. I am
touching your lips.

The drowned wand. Can you
pick up the future from the time's
lake? I am a fish now.

Tiny beads on shut eyes. Are
you watching my burning house?
I am still inside.

His blindness or my grace;
when you would like to kiss?
The pricks were on the floor.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 16 august 2017

My Revenge

No thought was enough
from a stunning fall.
I am leaving the paradise.

In urn the past moves like
a weightless peony. I am
touching your lips.

The drowned wand. Can you
pick up the future from the time's
lake? I am a fish now.

Tiny beads on shut eyes. Are
you watching my burning house?
I am still inside.

His blindness or my grace;
when you would like to kiss?
The pricks were on the floor.

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0/0 | detail |

Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 15 august 2017

It Was Enough

Yawning of dawn.
I scribble a note for night
to come again.

And I try to write a triolet
in memory of moon;
who forgot to say goodbye.

A pigeon flutters in my chest
for a beautiful bride,
who was fond of pecans.

I have not much to show
except my trembling hands
which could not light the -

lamp in dark for once, to
read the face of eternity.

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0/0 | detail |

Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 14 august 2017

Collective Death

I am talking to me
in a muffled tone.
Unhinged, cutting myself.

Murder was shaping. Cheating
oneself. What was the arguement
to concede the religion -

of a no-god? The actuality
of present time? Black magic
was turning human beings into stones.

Amid unrest someone claims
the obscenity of truth.
The torture becomes fearless.

Paired needless stitch the unhealing
wounds. I have left the home
to find the black-hole.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 13 august 2017

Fastening

Identity ravaged in snow dust;
now I am writing my name
in water.

It was not my time,
not yours. We play like
saddened kids today -

under wounds of stars.
I beseech the sky to wash
the tainted roses.

Where do I go now, to find
the stolen kisses of moon -
after I was sick of hot sun.

Take away all the blue letters
from my sleeves. I have
dropped the links.

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0/0 | detail |

Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 12 august 2017

Questionable

Give me a home for sparrows.
An outcry was rising,
why do you go from aphids to moon.

Midnight and a howling.
I am scared of hungry wolves
roaming in alleys.

Two small mounds and a
split code. There was left nothing
in alphabetical order.

Dry aquarium. Why did the fish
leave for the veins of glass? Lights
were out in search of a dark corner.

The corpse was unbuttoned,
why do you wash your food before eating?

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 11 august 2017

Invisible Stings

With dolls on your side
of a troubled life; you
go on rocks to receive
an unspoken answer.

The sounds, the echo.
Your father walks in -
and lays down the brick
on your papers.

Were you prepared to save
yourself from the onslaughts
of ladders. The snakes were
ready to bring you down.

Let the cityscape rise on-
the tall spires and snow
fall on the bones of birds
for a salutation.

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0/0 | detail |

Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 10 august 2017

Tremulous Light

In my sky your blackbird
a lamp without a light
making a nest of moon
where the fireflies will meet.

A mirror breaks my dream
I paint my graveyard with blood
of a rose which felled a tattoo
from the morning dew.

They make love under a -

cloud in shimmering dark
of vanishing youth; One day someone
will claim the fallen vial.

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0/0 | detail |

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