Najnowsze prace:
Satish Verma, 6 lutego 2012
THE SULK
Lapis lazuli:
like a crazy theme of
hostile doctrine,
spawning a fierce battle
of bulge.
It was scary
like a scrawny lizard
climbing on the breasts.
The hoarse retreat of the arm,
when the lamb did not
squeal under the machete.
Poking in frozen mud,
to find the footprints of a mammoth,
when trees were bleeding.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 14 lutego 2012
ARRIVAL OF SHRIEKS
An image was talking to you
in your mind.
There were fudged voices
of foot soldiers of half-gods.
I was scared of synthetic leaves
and black stars.
It was a most explicit blood dance
baring-all, the hiss of cones.
You wanted to define yourself
by overexposing the bisexual
stain. Celibacy was
unleaping in shadow.
The blessings will not wait.
You stay in coma after the haemorrhage.
The bloodbath will find the answer
in fever of sheer size.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 2 kwietnia 2012
Climbing
Before sinking to knees.
I will talk to flowers.
Day of arrival has come.
In death, wisdom of trees
will eject the seeds
of fire on hip-locked roots.
A miracle will raise the bones
from the rage of crowd.
The king has agreed to depart.
Darkness sings in the
valley of sun.
Tongues are free to weave the moon.
Till the words are ready
to walk on street of sorrow
to remove the blood soaked prints.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 30 października 2012
ALONG THE SORROW
Fire in kidneys
was burning the basket.
Privacy of green thumbs
was intimately involved.
Let us share the candle light march
for the blossoms,
who would not stay
for old birds,
Read me again the epitaph
of the martyr, who wanted to remain
unsung, for the sorrow of
the flowing river.
Frenzy of a lone wolf was
inconsolable, when the dam spilled
the dead wood on the empty
bed of roses.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 17 lutego 2013
RETOLD JOURNEY
Insane
I turn around
an amputee
to live, for not living
fighting the inner war
speared,
lacerated,
like neanderthal in cave
my weapon
the serrated moon
cried in fluted dark
a glimpse of bare bones
the ash of a bleeding dawn
my shuttered courage
in urn
there was only one evening
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 2 marca 2013
A CLEAN MURDER
Standing on a beam,
shrine:
holding a black dawn,
my phoenix roving on dark river.
The bell still clangs;
I hear the footsteps.
A weird thought
spreads out on peripherals,
makes holes,
the undone communiqué
of a war
between knuckles;
the blind eyes
lift the fallen globe
of light.
I move from tree to tree.
Who was left unburned?
The sky was overcast.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 3 marca 2013
I TRUST
When the hate began
subordinating,
where were you?
O!
My clothes were on fire.
When you climbed the lips,
words were livid on tongue:
beyond the earth and sky,
water and air,
fire!
You stutter?
Speak not truth.
I don’t exist;
my flesh has become food
red meat,
dirty orchid!
I will forget me! !
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 12 marca 2013
DROUGHT IN RIVERBED
A randon creation
convulsed by grief.
Death of a pendant was not able
to recall the cleavage.
Kosher scream, the grandchildren
will not know the fakes of
reality show,
pure as honey, then the
scratching starts: look the tiger
was sitting on the branch.
Miracles will happen again
when the prince manipulates
the throne.
The dust melts in the local crowd.
Amid droughts there was a rivalary
to pick up the left over grains in field
between urchins and squirrels!
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 25 listopada 2015
Ending Of Time?
The identity moves ahead
of the shadow of truth
I search for the absolute
in vain. Can I remove the emptiness
and talk to myself?
The core feeling is same.
We flow in our own separateness.
I want to outlive my brethren
and eat my death alone.
Mindful I watch the kernel,
swaying tree is silent
I am here due to a fault in the genes.
Grief is not my skull house.
Each night I sleep with dry lips
dreaming a lake.
My pillow floats like a chopped moon.
Silence of anonymity
in the heart of a storm.
It is a curious apparition.
The vibrations of distant whispers
fill up the lungs,
ripping apart the veins.
My inside blood utters
a shrill sob.Where to go?
We cannot return back. Ending of time?
Satish Verma, 15 grudnia 2015
Living Legend
The flame will not die.
I pursue the path of smoke
the virtue of suffering
gives the pure light.
The book knows my inside truth
and tells no one. I weep for the swallows,
I could not feed.
I lay one white
stone for each death.
You will scatter my ashes,
in the abandoned land
where silence walks
and words lie like microcosm
of contemporary hunger.
Life was a cupful of tears.
The voices always spilled challenging
the fidelity of flowing water.
The living legend turns in grave,
I pray for peace
I promised myself to stand erect
when the quake comes.
I will save the flora
and the grass of dying earth.
I ask for one more life
to clear the debt & bleach my guilt.
Satish Verma, 2 lutego 2018
The Judgement
You had the numbers.
The reverse trends begins-
with uneasy and dark ambush.
A fatal miscue. You
will get the message.
The fingerprints will stay on the wall.
Enduring the onslaughts.
Remaining sky-clad I
will wander in your arms.
Fighting with the curves,
on sleepy islands, will
you hail my outstanding landing?
The revelation has a price.
You will not open the envelope
till I am dead.
Satish Verma, 23 lutego 2018
Clairvoyance
The spirit hovers.
I am not interested in a
séance. Let me come face to face
with the book to share clean
or unclean thoughts.
Not able to print my deep
angst. A clash of cultures. I
will call the unprinted scream. The
dismembered limbs begin
a dance of unfolding
the hate.
It was a jig.
Of scaffoldings for the
peacocks to shed their wings.
Everyone was falling for the green-gold
to be embossed on the dust
cover of life.
Satish Verma, 18 stycznia 2012
DANGEROUS
After a grand design
there was a white leap
to find a boat in darkness.
Time was dusting the frame
of memory, and the age
will grieve for the lost vision.
The pace of assaults will
increase over the burning windows.
This was my priviledge.
The tongue tastes a superbug.
Some celestial entity, guideless
but ready to rub on the flame.
Here lies the moon of beaten stars.
Nothing was terrible
in greasing the naked groom.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 18 stycznia 2012
Even The Planets
Pieces of day falling like
severed limbs of time.
Acoustic shadows
drinking the pain.
Exodus has started
of thoughts to find an
enabler, for misting voices
of indecisiveness.
Obscene contour abrupts
the ink. Now there is blank
depression, behind the globes.
Cubes have become toeless.
The night has locked itself in,
when suddenly grief becomes the sun.
The celestial makeup was melting.
We are becoming naked, like pupils.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 18 stycznia 2012
Nepotism
Like illegitimate sons
becoming nephews.
Stay with me I have lost
my ink.
An underground knife
cuts you to wrist,
you bleed on paper.
It was a tip of trust failure
after a wake up call by a loner;
the molten lava will find another
sexual pursuit.
There was nothing left to be
concealed, after the bonfires of veils.
The celibate tears come unbidden
I am going to encounter the pool.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 23 stycznia 2012
Sitting On Stairs
Vision was searching an eye,
when you were pelting stones
on virgin roses.
It was a season of
undertaking fast on streets
to change the afternoon of people’s war.
This verdict had antique fangs
of cracked jaws. The sex seekers
were finding the pollen dust on thighs.
A hiss becomes a snake
on trembling lips, ready
to stun eyelashes, turning on a god.
Cow dung will clean the pollution
of faithful minds for graceful entry
into the charities of inferno.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 31 stycznia 2012
NOT FOR WAGES
A candid flint
stretches the sexlessness
of a family.
Let the rootless plants start
a ritual of reproduction.
A kiss of undergrass
takes you back home for a bloodless
dawn. Say something for those
who have not seen the moon.
No answers were available for green questions.
There was no naked mouth
to feed the darkness.The dew scorches
the flame.A cloud will lift
the night and scars will become opaque
in the forecast.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 3 lutego 2012
HIGH MOON
Not the words, you were burning the papers sideways. It was a public domain someone was drowning a child in a milk pot. And the half-past moon, iodine level was rising in ocean. On the beach, the dancing sand throws up the dead horse after dysfunctionality. Pray for the bleeding sun, its golden mane has inspired the mimicry of a leaf. The grass hopper is going to find the secret of chlorophyll.Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 18 lutego 2012
THE POISENED BLUE
When the bloodshed starts
at the doorstep of solemn silence,
give me a lone engagement with the invisible
to unchain the split heart.
I will take away the pain
from home and come back in failing
light when a star meets the star
and a moon meets the moon.
What was your core intention
to dismember me like a breadfruit
and cover it with a human skin
stapled to a dead soul?
You drink the ruins after a collective
failure.I am watching the sky
for nightingales.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 4 marca 2012
GNAWED THROUGH
A fat island burns
under a looming sun.
Bleeding rays will enter your eyes
to see the blundering world.
The gods were melting down
looking at the corpses of
faltering orchids, spread out
at the feet of a white blaze.
The oriole sheds the gold
and embraces a brown –
black cloud against
a dazzling green.
A dishevelled country rumbles
to get a street sense from
a meditating Buddha.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 6 marca 2012
TWIST MY HEART AGAIN
Reached,
not yet pubescence:
a cloud says, moon was
crazy, treading on a
forbidden lake of frozen tears.
Breaking fast unto death
for releasing the doves
in sky of hymns.
The gametes were weary.
Procreation will wait.
Let the dark particles
start a ceremony of scoops
to carry the impatient twister
inside me,
to pull off the yokes and
set the flames free.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 7 marca 2012
Ungoing
Incredible moon
tips the hallucinating tree.
Lake propels the waves to limbs
and strips to bank.
I wear my lightning
and enter into a process
outside body. The night
betrays and goes back to sun.
There is a frame of truth to be claimed
in a black sac, who slashed
his neck for the deity
of widening freedom.
Turn right, where the trembling
nation stands to pick up the fallen heroes.
I am going to write an epitaph
with my blood on the wind chimes.
Satish Verma
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
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
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
Satish Verma, 20 marca 2012
REVOLUTION
Riveted:
the ducks went into a howl.
A shirtless moon was walking
on the lake.
Darts had started moving
towards blue lips.
Gale was not able to speak.
Unthinkable:
sky will explode now, in stars.
Gambling with water, cheating
the fireflies
in dark bush.
Who was illegitimate on
the blanket?
The child was crying for the
lost coin.
King wanted the sun to hide behind the monolith;
his statue was being pulled down.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 31 marca 2012
Wearing Away
I have again become empty
by undoing
a disturbing thought.
Unsexing
the sputtering stillness
of a Robin.
Tender bruises
on the pink heart.
A bird was flying away.
Little tears
come down from the swollen
river in spate.
Pain lingers
as you want an answer
from an eroding dune.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 6 kwietnia 2012
Occupation
Leaving the stains behind
I am moving to a new home
O mother
to wear the sun.
The black moon
had been stalking me for years
O mother
for a pink romance lifting the clouds.
Though, I will not come back
ever, in the valley of skins
O mother
yet I will remember your beloved night.
Nebulous was the transit
to sleep without beds.
O mother
How long these protests will continue?
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 8 kwietnia 2012
Soaked In Blood
They had surrounded the tank;
collars on the legs.
You were tracking the revolution.
The process melts the crosses
in flowing blood.
Everybody was carrying a rose.
The bruises were spreading
on table.
King was drinking wine.
Unwritten law.
Death will sleep on street
with burning pyres.
Don’t throw the blankets
on red eyes.
Moon will stay whole night.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 11 kwietnia 2012
FLUTING
Time unleashed from ferrum
becomes pain
like a palm moon.
A tableau vivant was gliding
on the road.
It was a night of rage.
A frozen scene
undulates the history of fire
in the eyes of a flute.
Who was breaking
the clouds
wading in reeds?
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 14 kwietnia 2012
Cocktail
Beings of erotica were
at the gates of heaven.
Shell-shocked, the city was becoming political
but people were absconding.
It was global warming
for obscenity. The remoteness
was collapsing and moons
had come in my arms.
Smoking the serrated leaves
and glandular hairs, hurling
yourself on the pathway to estasy
to forgive and to forget.
The blue mercury was
ascending. Anti-depressants were
not working. You don’t own the
phrases. Words were becoming surrogate
for thoughts. We embrace the fall.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 22 kwietnia 2012
PARTY
In search of peace
he burnt down his books,
living precariously,
as colors were shifting.
After the disengagement
there was anger and chaos.
In the swirl of mudslides
the mountains stood erect & high.
Caste, color and creed
on coffee table,
for a birthday party of democracy.
A drone fell on the crowd.
The maniac depression divides
the butterflies into pathless lies.
The grass was blue
and sky was red.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 23 kwietnia 2012
MEMORY WALK
Wanted to visit old lanes
for a mocking bird.
A luminous proxy wanted to play a game.
Treachery flees from
the trees and settles
on the white wings of flying swans.
No logarithm will stop
to watch the invisible
numbers going for infinity.
Tomorrow I go back to my
school, to wear my fallen mask.
The world was very obtuse to watch a setting sun.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 26 kwietnia 2012
The Ritual
Nihilist:
Being observed,
makes you feel undressed, naked.
A linear, ramp rage
rises.
Pieces of time
fall in your mouth. You start behaving
erratically. Hawthorne effect?
You know how sharp, stout
are the stings?
Testicles shrink.
The unrelenting zero burns the fat.
The emptiness was howling.
Time was dying,
and dying was time.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 28 kwietnia 2012
ON THE EDGE
I recognized the vitriol.
There was blood on your hands.
The invisible was burning in dark.
This was the black moon
and this was the alienation.
An animal climbs on your shoulders.
It goes on and on.
Was it the night to undress
and show your wounds to dreams?
The lake has left the shores -
and flesh eats grass
in absence of cold truth.
I meet the moans of quaking
stars.petals know the music
of death in fragrance.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 10 maja 2012
IMPOVERISHED
You asked for an explanation
for a flame. A bat
flies in a passage of pain.
A poem becomes an accuser.
They were drowning
the moon
in a lake of blood.
A poem sails like a kayak.
The snow was falling
like drifting lovers.
Stains were becoming bits of screams.
A poem delivers an echo.
The fear turns you blue
in midst of knocks.
Doors had the outrageous locks.
A poem walks like a truth
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 12 maja 2012
Her Looks
Jinxed out
was the sex panel
on the honour’s integrity.
Deep water a fish
was found dead.
The destination
of your rival was
feminism. I was talking
of the moon
without gender.
Your fingers were probing
the dancing words,
in this strange event.
Darkness was falling
on my lips in morning.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 13 maja 2012
My Diary
Unthinkable.
Lithograph of a malaise.
I cannot talk.
Will you abandon the thought
and care about
the drowning dawn?
The bandaged ego
of the book
threatens the reader.
Come and solve
the puzzle
of poetry.
Everything was quiet
except
the pulsating heart.
I will. I will not scream.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 17 maja 2012
Acrimony
In longest night
of pitch-dark space
you disappear like an arrow.
No star brightens your face.
Rumor was cruising like a bat on streets
to capture the gullible victim
on winter solstice.
The snow was falling like
sorcery.
A little anxiety to taste the
dried out grapes
and listen to the hunger
mouthless.
You draw the lake
on a canvas
and then jump into it
with visible nakedness.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 18 maja 2012
A SICKENED CRAFT
Waiting for a chaste bread, whole
life under the moon,
to speak off the inconsistency of
happiness,
with a monologue
of a needle in eyes
for a madness of sublime verse.
Canoeing in a frozen lake
for a stranded rose,
you stop at a bosky bank.
A weeping willow greets
the lost son.
A school bag measures the knowledge
of surrounding hills, who had
plucked out the stars
from the sky.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 19 maja 2012
Dissection
It was haemolysed
the homeless night.
Flagellation will bring out the truth.
The bloody kerchief
was thrown on a crowd.
A new comet was sighted.
Dust and ice were
near the tears.
Sun was rising.
Something fell
in the lake. Death was going
to be celebrated.
Flesh has emptied
the juices. Now
bones will laugh.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 21 maja 2012
CONTRASTING
It did not stay in bed for long
the ultimate.
Clouds climbed down from immortality.
The sick motherhood.
We made love
listening to winds
draping our ashes.
A father waited at the door.
I am the sun
I am the moon
interpenetrating in you.
In concept of two enemies.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 4 czerwca 2012
HUNGRY
Be my sleep, I tell a dream.
A lantern was chasing the shadows
on wall. My fever?
I say, past one awakening
I will sleep eternally.
The age licks the grief of fallen
pride. I was still walking on
sharp stones, bleeding inside.
Howling,
here I come from the caves.
A whole truth becomes unholy
when mixed with crackers and has
a loud noise. Let the river of life
flow in breast in night of hunger
without a provider.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 9 czerwca 2012
SMALL WINDOWS
This road trip to moon will not end
through the shards of shattered,
small prints of sleep.
A ravaged nest lived behind tomorrow
in necklace of past apologies.
Hanging by fan was ending of today.
We talked of dirty nights and bright glasses
in the strange land of gobblers. The
greed was the keyward.
I was not ready to comb the promises.
Power of poverty and deprivation
has brought together the broken hearts.
Let’s kill the syllables after inferno
dousing the truth of life. Who knows
when we will meet in darkness.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 19 czerwca 2012
IRREPARABLE
It was lack of contusion.
The relief had not come. Hours
were on after the nobility moved
on faulted track.
Methane was rising.
It was white death:
people were coming, people were going.
Pure and muddy, the treachery was
like trace gases in a mine.
Anytime the explosion will take place.
The children were shrinking
I do not speak. Watch the flowerpots flying.
All the celestial deities have entered the lake.
Take a quick dip in the nude serenity.
Time was slipping out from the aquarium.
Satish Verma
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
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
Satish Verma, 5 lipca 2012
RESPONSE
The myopic tongues
of tall trees, going downhill
to find the roots of four-letter words of dead,
unspoken, but sung in dark.
They had come out of the skin.
River was flowing on emotional track,
with heavy eyelids. Father said,he would never die.
Your unborn children were tasting
the salt of the road still untaken. The pain
in the neck was grizzlier,
when the sun was retreating in virgin hole.
Moreover, the wrinkles will tell the tale
of truant hands who would not
play with the silken adolescence
of a delirious moon.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 16 lipca 2012
FREAKING OUT
Before the spill there was
soaring. And then anti-g.
I readied myself
for the ultimate fall.
This was the poetry of submission
sharing the pain of disillusionment.
Who was pretending of liberation
in a see-through heart?
This was the time when
you run amok
under pheromones of dead clones:
the drowned dreams.
Pelting stones at moon
we were made for each other.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 23 lipca 2012
GHOST TOWN
Watching the descent
without god
in an intelligent design.
Come have a look at
our adversary.
The template offers an open hand.
The culture of hunger
in this urbane obscenity
sitting on the payment making a motif.
The giant strode into
the hut to blame the poor
who would not eat his words.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 27 lipca 2012
BLOOD DRAPED
It was coming up, the politics
like dirty sex
in tall Parthenium grass.
The panther was hiding on a steppingstone
watching the hot, field hockey
played with skulls of peers.
Mauled, the peach skin was
entertaining sunlight in
the metaphoric village.
Prisoners of false ceilings,
we sing the anthem with
the crowd of wolves.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 4 sierpnia 2012
THE PRESENCE
The hawk was landing.
Squinting at the urgent need
of slaughter and hope –
among the frightened hunger
of truth, of running feet
in the tall grass.
A world apart in
seeking the reality of
dying for earthly love.
I was not sure of
the manifesto of bricks and
stones falling on evergreen kisses.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 22 sierpnia 2012
PULSATING
In the cavernous mind
a thought becomes
redundant.
You go straight for a snakeroot.
A flat cluster of white flowers
spurs a stigma
at the white moon
for floating rumors.
This was my native pain
of brilliant tapestry.
The threads had a weaver’s knot
of rare beliefs.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 24 sierpnia 2012
AMBUSHED
To wean away a tigermoth
from a bell jar
for a journey of faith
against ebony of illusion.
The caterpillar has restrained
the roof,
of future accidents
to coming of age.
You do not know
the speed
of nakedness
on silvery path.
Where,
the ending comes?
You know
we only watch the heels of forerunners.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 26 sierpnia 2012
EVERLASTING
A name breaks on the tip
of a pen.
Like a wildflower after a
violet end.
The yellow stripes will
enter the past,
retracing the path
of failures.
I pick up a broken thread
to weave a shade of blue flag
to open under the weight
of a guilt.
A cluster of doorknobs.
I retrieve my future
to lock the death
in erotica.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 4 września 2012
NEUTRAL
I will need
some new words today.
To say what I did not want to say,
scratching at the surface of truth.
I do not fight with meanings.
A shade between two borders of lies
between right and wrong. The eyes
will speak for the fierceness of hurts
carrying the fear of unknown.
It is, or was it drifting?
The declining time or sliding years
whichever was true,
will find a fallen tree
in a flowing river,
when I was still searching the sandbar
My sane world has no desire.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 22 września 2012
AFTER SUNSHINE
Be my soul in outrageous
sunshine of knowledge.
I need a shade of tears.
The barrels were still smoking
after the war.
I will not wake up in morning.
Lightless the day will mourn
for the fallen moon
on the breast of a hill.
Tear down the curtain.
Let me sea the face of death.
I have a long debt to pay.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 29 września 2012
MESSAGE
And that did it.
Many voices in a mayhem
lost the face of lightening.
The starlight woke in rain
untainted by dust of beds
encased in wilful folds.
The tremors will not stop
the knocking of speech, after
an intimate kiss of the void.
Talking of lonely peaks,
whom I will not touch them in morning.
Let the night take its revenge.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 30 września 2012
WINDOWS
Sky wept
when you hanged the young truth
from a tree.
A shadow falls
on the hill
for a savior.
A winged flaw
becomes a legend
for the sake of a sword.
A nameless letter
betrays the will of a cage
to set the bird free.
My forehead marks
the wrinkles of ancestors
who would not give a name.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 1 października 2012
IN ALONENESS
It was a thorn in flesh
before our fires met in midstream,
the waterplant had become untouchable.
I saw you lying
behind a thin veil,
like a prophet, in timeless agony.
The moon had left a wreath
for a failed worrior,
who could not move into the tunnel.
Entering the childhood again
to reap the sorrow
of a dry fountain.
Ah, in the eternal withdrawl
I come face to face
with my dying earth.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 5 października 2012
SCRUTINY
It spurs the hope
in absent voice for a deaf ear.
You will wash the ancestor’s prism
for a natural death of a fault.
Through me I skim the frozen
lake of tears.
Maybe I will watch the tree
for some sanity to produce
the blossoms -
in the starved faith of a
wanderer who will not speak
for himself.
All life he was trying to explain
without words,
the enormous efforts he was
putting to lay down his hands
on truth.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 18 października 2012
ALL I UNREAD
I unwrite a song
for she,
a gratis homage.
Questioning imperils
the sky,
clouds would not weep.
A cover-up comes to quote
scriptures
the meaning of deployment.
Was I feeling smug after
counting
the pages of unread death?
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 21 października 2012
A LASSO
Battle remains between
white and black,
a synthetic truth
and a bald faced hornet.
Aching violence was spreading
on moon. I was tossing around
the stars placing the apostrophe
in the end.
There was a conflict in pain
and the pill. It was a prelude to the
carrier of a gun. Father was degenerating
in his son’s boots.
The social split was widening
in the gulf of posterity. You dress
as a bride to receive the punishment
from the hands of arrogance.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 31 października 2012
IRONICAL
Sky drank the moon
when night was cool.
A lone tree on roadside
waits for the prowling wolf
to steal the electric skin
like the veins on the breast.
River was flowing
nudging, cleaving the rising frenzy.
Still the thirst does not sink
like the torpedoed sub.
A dropp contains million faces of a moon.
A moon does not have a drop.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 6 listopada 2012
MY FAULT
Your genome was climbing down.
I hate to count the steps.
Feathers hurt sometimes
after the end of flying.
How far was the moment of dust?
You were still swimming in saline water.
A collective guilt will pay the price.
Blissfully nothing else was to be done.
On your behalf I will not accept any alms
I was giving it, and I was taking it.
Was it a disaster, a visit from the lake.
My feet were wet and my eyes were wet.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 14 listopada 2012
TORCHES
It was a big trauma.
Granary went overboard,
my boat was torpedoed.
No romance was left now.
At the burial of the moon
aliens were arriving.
You do not want to call it a genocide.
The massacre of millions, of children
and women. The civil war was inside you,
not in the homes of innocents. A god
falls on the rail-tracks to commit
suicide. His severed limbs I would not see.
I want to close the window,
as the white dove was carrying
dead leaves for a mass grave.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 3 grudnia 2012
RENAISSANCE
Will you tell me what it was
the unknown of the known?
When you step into the eyes of stangers
you start talking without uttering a single word.
Give me back the body,
of dark pink matter
to understand the god’s will.
He was sitting in field of sugarcane.
The petrol burns with hate
in the necks of panthers.
Tiger, tiger I look at my son coming back
after encounter.
The bleeding revolution has overturned
tomorrow. No body knows where we are heading.
The babies flick like tender candles
inside the saints.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 7 grudnia 2012
MANIA
Keep the paper blank,
do not write anything new.
Words were abducted earlier also
Let the truth speak from the folds
of dying clocks.
Fauns were searching the human
abodes for fake currency of truth. There
was no method in their method. Do you
find a pride in their attacks? A strange
militia had joined hands with sleep mafia.
My soul colours the half-black berries.
The sum will not eat them.
Father was beaten in war of tricks
I still follow the laws of kindness
in filling the extended empty cups.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 12 grudnia 2012
*DEPRESSION
There was thunder in the hut
teeth clattered under the ground.
Handcuffed you walk in inequality
to qualify for hanging till dead.
I may not tell myself
what was happening to me.
Moving in opposite direction
the bird was able to catch the smell.
My stance was always making a stroke
in the canvas of a tormentor
abbreviated in a muscular arm
starting violences of sleep.
Corralled in doorframes, keeping
the lights off, this was the nemesis
for asking for the change. Haungered, the
human being, absorbed by the
absence of chains which were not
coming in sight.
*On the fate of Kanu Sanyal, founder of naxalite movement, who hanged himself to death on 23th March 2010.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 13 grudnia 2012
WORDLESS SILENCE
Yes, your name was sliced off
from the impasse. I will stand with you
to track the continental drift. How little
I knew about you and the prosthetic words.
Again and again I return to ruins, and
the dust and crumbling absence. Eyes
will speak for the wordless silence now.
Who will tell the truth for the murdered
thought? The cognitive silence? You don’t
want to see the light. The soul sits outside
the body. Pollution hits the mind. The words
eat the emptiness of facts and lies. A vertical
descent of speech.I should not have
listened to cries.
A memory moves in zigzag manner, accepts
the odyssey of man’s failing gods.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 18 grudnia 2012
INTROSPECTION
Living against the food amnesia
gold bricks call for austerity
in passage of the hunger.
Canons hanging in their necks
it was the silence of death.
Whispers were floating in night.
The bodies will free us from
gold cure, tasting the forbidden salt
of stale lead of spices.
We will forget the color of lips
when you cry. Time falls
like a dead sparrow on faithless head.
When you hold a hollyhock
I look at the crescent moon
who was taking a shower after disrobing.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 21 grudnia 2012
PAIN OF ELEGY
When logic and intuition
stood on edge of time,
sugar was dancing
on the salt lake.
I would not see the torn
book between retreat
and assault.
I was reining in the new moon.
In a night raid, five
peacocks were killed. I was
trying to unseize the cross purpose,
why the compensation was rejected
at burial site.
The burden of guilt
was carried by the flint now.
You take a final plunge
and are lost in the faces
of sad children.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 4 stycznia 2013
sui generis
Looting after the earthquake:
I have wrecked myself
on my own terms.
Bringing down the edifice
of human cult,
the man has come in the
spin of richtor scale.
Why does a crisis tears up the mask
and animal comes out?
An insect will wait for the hidden
dust to settle till dawn.
Along the rim, a glacier
has collided with an iceburg.
Now eyes do not hold water.
It is raining.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 5 stycznia 2013
BRINGING DOWN
The road breaks here.
Give me something to heal the fractured earth.
Angels are too much for me, the
gash turns inward ripping apart
eternal vigil.
They head into the burning books
and then explode themselves
on wet sands, generating grids, blithely lethal.
Wired blind, the sun weeps.
A green catastrophe tears a huge iceburg.
Post-coitol emptiness. The sweet nothing
stops. He becomes everything, the world
was not. The clouds bleach, moon
strips to bone. The artist goes into
exile to find a fiction.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 6 stycznia 2013
FAINT WRITING
You wanted to live
inside a shell
and step outside, in
a bowl of habits, sometimes,
nudging accumulated sins
to offset the aftershocks.
Tsunami is here to stay.
The crowd was swelling
lured by candles on the sea.
Each candle for one living grave
carried by each person on the head,
for the raging waves of life.
In one minute you will become a shadow
of long legs.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 12 stycznia 2013
DEEP UNDERSTANDING
Tilted lips on the wet eyes.
Below the lids
was floating an island in a lake.
Latched to a full moon
I was trotting with snowshoes,
trekking with stars.
A volatile virginity
rebounds
ticking in your heart, spiteful.
And I, lonely as a black hill
seek the silver dew
that moons the green windows.
O malignant night
I was not worthy of death
you bestowed on me.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 19 stycznia 2013
THE BELIEVERS
Inheriting the dust of street
something of a lofty ideal
in politics of poverty, I want to get back
to my native moon.There are
too much wounds here.
My green blessings came from the dark.
Sun was altering the geometry of crops.
Genes were manipulated and the
debate was running on fiction.
Down the drain went the hybrids.
To glow or not to glow was the big question
and the hunger was discovering the cause.
Suicides had toppled the numbers
and clouds had become colorful.
God knows when the ceremony will end.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 20 stycznia 2013
THE MELTING
Not moving, the words
had gone into inertia. The space was shrinking.
Only restlessness was there in buoyancy
ready to distort the sound of depth.
I am expanding in propriety,
in meaning.
Pure burning on flame of truth,
like a moth.
Listen to the guilt,
the denial to the stasis of soul.
The loneliness brings the touch
of unlimited falls.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 26 stycznia 2013
BLAMELESS?
Rebirth of an anxiety,
of an abstract thought,
takes on the impossible of something
left between false and true.
Out of spite some body was betraying the life.
A bodiless lie becomes an imposter
beats the truth and walks away.
You, dumbfounded, discover a malignancy
in the roots of a crying tree.
The soil bacteria were taking over the grains.
The price of the sick crop, the insects,
the greed of the state, where the normal
man will go. The comets and the crabs
are circling the island. Scratch the prophecy,
and every man was turning against himself.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 28 stycznia 2013
IN CHAINS
Listening,
to inner voice,
peeling off the hurts,
hammered memories.
You dropp the answer
and throw back the question.
Something was totally amiss
Absence overtakes the presence.
The shadow was more frightening.
No movement,
A lull before a flash,
then explosion. The limbs will fly.
The ending of thought
or beginning of emptiness?
A green death starts thinking.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 4 lutego 2013
A BONE-DEEP KNOWLEDGE
Untie my hour with the Mars
I am burning and I am going to disappear
in my words. An alienation of a healer in deep
angst? What did you find in the night of confrontation?
Will you be able to save the babies
in wombs of truth?
I have turned my back without blaming
on the fictional fall. The first pain was the stranger.
No other had been the same in complete solitude.
Do I need to take a side in the face of suffering?
Today is more dangerous than tomorrow and
I am going to make a deal with my talent.
The rules are becoming charred shirts
covering a pure body. Give me hands to
ship the thunder in bay of blood.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 5 lutego 2013
TEMPTATION
After running for the flesh,
why did you make a home for the death?
Was it a reverence
for buying the peace?
Or fear of uncertainty
and suspense in the bosom of pain?
The panther was only thirsty, there was
no need to shoot him.
I will fight the war
on my own terms, in defence of liberation.
In moment of defeat, there
will be celebration of truth for homage to a truce.
Give me some reason to die.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 6 lutego 2013
DOMAIN INVEIGHED
Cambium will cheat one day
the pace of climb,
snakes will dance
peeling off the skin –
the urgency of moon
to take away the body of victim
from sunscape.
You thrive on a window
switching off the sky.
A quaint reptile walks on the moon.
The medium sits on a black stone
and the mob
burns the house of a lord
Sarracenia, your lip is too large.
for a kiss of death. I am coming down the steps
to drink the acid
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 12 lutego 2013
VIRULENCE
scape without a name
scepter of a colossus
merge in a yellow boom
between hunch and a knife,
to keep shut the glassy lips
from red stares
a secret of an anonym
scripting sunset
the stacked neurotransmission
of millions of texts
with quietus
not to return back without the foe’s skull
a hollowness reverberates
while indifference talks
of moon’s lair
nor a dwindling shoulder–
and the tigers have disappeared
from sanctury
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 16 lutego 2013
GREEN PASTURES
in lunatic scape of
fringed labellum
the creeping malignancy was advancing.
i missed a rendezvous with moon
when you had brought a blue kiss
from abducted lips;
again I become a sisypus
lifting the rock off your comets
of round tangerines.
something was missing from our parched
lilies, this teaching was hurting, in our maniac depression
tampering with our melting,
the body had left the golden leash,
the first liberation from nagging pain of verbs
the noun moved farther than silent classics
shadows in between
the fatalities
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 19 lutego 2013
A HUM
Take me, share me if you can
my heart goes to my sun,
my feet will go to my moon.
O, little home
my dream was bigger than you
in the melody of sorrow.
Will I walk again on the
wrinkled sands? what can you
visualize, which I have never seen?
Praying in the scoop
of fingers I feel, gold nuggets
in the throes of doubts –
neatly dug out from the frozen
past, birds, smelling sex, souls
suspended in air.
Was it beginning of hate,
on the yellow mountains
where I am climbing with wooden legs?
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 21 lutego 2013
THE GLASS HOUSE
Not yet, the courage will wait
for the curtain to fall,
will then disappear in awakening;
the crucial thing
was the love of absence
the scythe of eclipsed moon.
Suspense hangs from the tall image
in slow turn of thighs
lips reach the galaxies:
the first cry of new born
pleads guilty,
whispers will never be the same.
My fault, the animal’s feet
carry the burden of the straw,
words brought the grief.
In a triangular fight
my son, my god, my father:
I stand in the center!
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 24 lutego 2013
WREATHS ON DOOR (for Suu Kyi)
fingers printed on face
they offered apologies for the mudslide
after the typhoon
standing on the mound
of twisted bones;
the state had the right
to trample and extinguish
a bright flame,
a meteor, streak of dissent
only the sect, the clan
will surround the holy tree
to save the doomed species in the jungle
of laughing hyenas
i see my limbs separated
a piano remains untuned
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 25 lutego 2013
COLOR CHANGE
from known to known
fear moves
in a circle, like a cheetah;
a jounery starts
from shivers to shivers –
when it was pouring
the taste of sting
ascending
loosening beside
between the lips
a word strieks,
terror spills from a naked eye,
you move inward
peel off the face
the eternal shame
of mankind, a hunger will miss
the date with a chameleon
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 4 marca 2013
LISTENING
They walk in dreams
nightmarishly
spirits of nameless faces
staring without eyes.
The screams:
of a child
on whom you poured boiling water.
The screams:
of a girl made to wear only flesh, because
she ran away with a priest.
The screams:
of a wipped woman
who tasted the laughing moonlight.
Death makes a big hole
in a spooky silence!
Are you listening?
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 6 marca 2013
LIFE’S TOAST
Difficult it becomes, the secret of
the judgement and metamorphosis of
the painted cotton into a stained truth.
To save the present tense. A dangerous
crowd of vowels to express the incomplete
moment of watery teeth,
so hung, while misspeaking painfully
in dyslexic manneo. I would not
understand the hour-glass proxy.
An undersized leash to walk
with a giant: the magnitude of tragedy
overwhelms the path!
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 8 marca 2013
GEOMETRY
You catch what was convenient
for age of denial. The exit.
Not being for nothing,
a better half of a belief.
Dependence was increasing
on wounds inflicted on others.
I stop at the mid of road
to turn or not to turn.
For the lost parapharases of existence.
The myth of amorality
was getting a new title. I close
a chapter of non-committance,
walk along a wheel chair.
I am not limbs, not topless.
The toes are prodding on a green vein!
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 17 marca 2013
TEASING
Tonight
when I come back
clad in wounded memories,
one seed deep
the pod would lie in the forest of hands,
I will wake you up in between
the kisses of moon.
The hawthorn lamps –
let me light the last unlit
of empty night, for a farewell
to a black rose, who had collected
the unpraised thorns.
The fugitive wind shuts the smart tears.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 22 marca 2013
MOLTEN ANGER
And, it tore through dumb claim;
the fakes had commingled with
the truth. Nowhere my soul
found peace.
One by one shadows were losing
their skeletons. The tarnished face
was forced to recant its nose
and shrank into hole.
Blood grievously turned grey
and skin tanned blue in fierce withdrawl.
He tracked naked in squall
of abuse leaving the eyes for blind rubbers
and bald wolves.Legs tweet, the child
is coming back home.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 26 marca 2013
LIBERATION
When I flew into a storm
my words collided with thunder
and stars fell on ashes of dead.
I wanted to scream. Seeking a freeze
on past.Future was stretching its arms.
A calling.Erratic explosions?
The ruins were becoming worthy
of worship.Hunger exudes the trapped
smell. You light an earthen lamp for
split masks, the face will never be known.
Only there were two concrete eyes
darting without thoughts, telling without sound.
There is no water, only million suns.
tish Verma
Satish Verma, 29 marca 2013
WHO WAS FAITHFUL?
That yellow moon haunts me again
and overleaps my sleep.
I do not dare to walk in the graves
of your eyes. The palace
has broken.
Mere suffering was not sufficient.
You have to wince with pain
for a crucified secret,
dying for a graced truth.
Snatch me a tear from
the blind eyes.My precious rags
will make a sacred thread to wrap
you on your arm.
The bruised innocence does not matter
now.You walk like a prince in every dark
page of history. Light follows the
sounds of body.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 15 kwietnia 2013
OF BURNING
From here to you
a legacy of dust was deepening.
I was reading a lot
between the dots.
You will get another master
I will get another pain.
In the maze of tunnels
a fear of fall snips.
A window becomes a man
unbuttoning the skin.
A body starts scratching
a secret.
The earthly sense warns
of a whiff of a stranger,
at the door in dark.
Like a ripe tear
I will not betray the eye -
in this grey hour.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 13 maja 2013
ONE SILVER BOWL
Will you save me
when I take the call of the lake?
The swishing depth was inviting me
for a plunge in the purple pool.
How deep was the pain of a mountain?
The domain was again ailing
with subtle rumors of
a massive landslide.
An escaped love of a thorn
was splittimg open the embrace
of me and my mask. Totally denuded,
a face was dusting off all the self-made
marks of inflictions.
Will you walk with me now
up to the stormy night, where I have
a house of candles keeping a vigil
for a coffin of unflowered seeds?
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 28 lipca 2013
FLAMES OF SONG
Tonight moon will write a poem
on my hand
about an almond love.
I find a breeze.
Nightmare: I was caught stealing words
from your lips, a lark
flies into death, paralyzed
by peace!
I will have the baby, I cried
at the insult to a rape
of truth, after the brawl
Pyramid was not made in a day.
Who slept in the arms of ambers?
Look, it was an atomic illusion of a guilt
of centuries. Time walks with bowed head
like a blind man.
Baked brown in heat of wars like
a salted pistachio, perched high on dry
grass, a swallow watches the rising
lake with no stones floating.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 10 sierpnia 2013
GOLDEN LEAP
at cremation ground
the flames were creating
strange words
he stood still, in void, between unfenced tears
there was no need to question the answers,
kicking up the history, of crossing the bridge
over the river of annihilation
of self, making a gift of forked tongue
of cobra, spiteful, as an old virgin
it was over without thinking, scribbling
on the margin, his name in different inks
a young smell floats an funny rocks of
events and the fish swims in eyes of dead
foetus in womb, with unclenched fists
Satish Verma
Ostatnie komentarze:
18 lipca 2025
Jaga
Stare zdejmujemy, nowych nie zamawiamy.
18 lipca 2025
Słońce czyni cuda w włoskami ;))
18 lipca 2025
Dziękuję :)
18 lipca 2025
Niejeden taki.
18 lipca 2025
Weronika
Barszczem.
17 lipca 2025
sam53
przychodzi codziennie... bez zaproszenia... pcha
16 lipca 2025
Właśnie na kręgosłup, to najpopularniejszy
16 lipca 2025
jeśli tylko
Może zależy pod schorzenia. Na kręgosłup
16 lipca 2025
między czwartą a piątą.. ;)
16 lipca 2025
To zależy od województwa. Wcześniej u nas,
16 lipca 2025
na przydział, bo bo wniosek o sanatorium złożony
16 lipca 2025
Belamonte/Senograsta
męskie są?
18 lipca 2025
wiesiek
18 lipca 2025
Kreton
17 lipca 2025
wiesiek
16 lipca 2025
wiesiek
16 lipca 2025
Belamonte/Senograsta
15 lipca 2025
wiesiek
15 lipca 2025
sam53
14 lipca 2025
jeśli tylko
14 lipca 2025
Bernadetta
14 lipca 2025
wiesiek