23 May, 2017

Taking Off Frills

Copper-brown
I was always looking
at your face.

One of trinity,
the fallen spirit, that
did't bore any number?

A visible mark
betrays the flying grief
of a pagan.

Between the cacti,
desert was blooming. No
water, no river in the eyes.

The smoke was
rising, in all its viciousness.
The panic was writ large on the face of moon.

How far was the death
camp of unwanted dreams?
I am not bone, I was not flesh.

Satish Verma

It Was Outlandish

The genial face of nephrite.
Jade, stone of the flank,
was becoming sectarian.

The pain was excruciating.
Not the evidence of god―
an imitation love.

The anatomy of conflict
looks vulgar. The street fight
comes out in open. A new born baby

on trash bin. I will not
ask who was the father of
truth. Today I commit myself

to the walking stones. There
was no music. You are
awakened by a loud thud.

The god falls from a big height.

Satish Verma

22 May, 2017

Beyond Discernment

The last thing
I wanted to say before
the sun went down.

Heal thyself, Oh
seer, stoking the flames
under the lake.

Honey-yellowed,
fall of your climax―
for golden calf.

Like a hen in blind
panic, under the spell
of innocent blade.

Satish Verma

Clean Hands

Deeply troubled inside,
I become silent
like a quiet, serene sea.

Impatience. It
has erupted again in my
hardened mood.

Playing a gamble
without a dice. An unmasked
body trembles.

I will ask my
river goddess one day―
where was my moon?

Exploding in its
face, the enigma had never
any physical.

Making things easier for you.
I stand in the moment of truth
on flames.


Satish Verma

21 May, 2017

Clinging To Hope

Revealing id,
without ego, and hunger.

I may not touch
you ever, placing my palm
down face on the burning candle.

Step by step I come
near you and move away
collecting my pins.

The medallion still hangs
in the cleavage.

You will throw your head
backward and laugh in misty chimes.

The skiagram shows the increased
vascularity. Would you come
if I don't call you?

We will smell together
the parting lips, trying to say
love, but unannounced.

Satish Verma

A Leap Of Faith

Nothing left to do
anything today.
Snow falling incessantly.

Did not believe ever
in shortcuts.
Still moving on legs.

Soundlessly I
meet my strange god
under a sickle moon.

Faraway my old
faith listens―
to the footsteps of dawn.

Satish Verma

19 May, 2017

It Hurts

You start forgetting
the absence of
existence. Wishing to remain
dead for sometime― to see what you did't
want to see in the hands of god.

A tricky aura
overlaps the consciousness―
of proxy war. Someone
cries out for the earth's hug.
Wolves start howling. This
was a stainless murder.

I get nightmares. Craft
slips from the tongue. You
must decide for yourself, who
was a clean angel. Door was
locked, key in your pocket.
You cannot move in the absence of proof.

I told you, we are heading
towards the Apocalypse.


Satish Verma