31 December, 2009

GOD OF BLESSINGS

Moon-scented I walk in dark
to put me back in place,
unwithered,
opening the inner casket for a glow.

Pleading not guilty
after killings in bed, of affectionate
kill of lies, a black widow
romps around with a flag of morality.

Was it a systemic swallowing
of a bait put up by a shipwreck?
The bodies were flowing in a row
in caldron of acrimony.

Satish Verma

DISCLAIMER

A brush with pain of chest
starts recalibrating the fog of eyes.
World has come a long way

from a child’s brain to prepare
an indigenous bomb
for a roaring ascent.

Where my son, you want to go
in trees of words? The temperatures
are rising to widen the scope

of violence. Every one was
claming to be a terrorist
for bringing the peace on earth.

let the party begin.

Satish Verma

PROGNOSIS

Did you foresee it? It was coming.
The freaked guilt of failed attempt
to get yourself kissed by a flame in the
androgynous temptation of dark.


One legitimate delay in dying of moon’s
tears? The weather had fizzled out during wild
winds and the summer was slowly starting a
whispering campaign against the clouds.

My enemy for sweet revenge will not
halt the attack.A bouncing vision will
start the fire engulfing the singing
trees of drenched art. The floods of intimatcies
were coming.

Satish Verma

ONE RUNAWAY RELIGION

Ignite the barren clay, I need
some rare elements
to tie a thread to the moon.
Upstaging the sun.

Not aspirational he was stripped
to become radical
like the dark blood of a white soul.

Pentadactylous was losing the big toes
under the burning skies
of unmindful eyes. The system

was collapsing. One premature
innocence dies defore the guilt
was proved, in the howling night of terror.

He unrolls the thighs to show the stitched
corn. The seeds step out to prove
the adolescence of crime.

Satish Verma

A STAR PLUNGES

A pristine smoke was pointing
the where of pawns
abetting the glacial runaway.

Emblemic,
he was the last man on the stairs
ready to jump in the lake –

when night arrives.
Now this was the tipping point
to stand erect

where the tongue was wasting away,
The death staged a drama
of a feel up of young buds

in a virgin garden.
The key breaks the lock
and darkness prevails.

Satish Verma

RAGING MOON

Homecoming under the moon
devoid of pain.
When did the clock turned back?
You are becoming a child.

My journey opens
in a dark wound.
A promise to walk blindfolded,
when only the footfalls are audible.

The distance between the homes
was increasing.
Your own shadow becomes a stranger:
mystery of defining the life.

Living among cannibals,
aides ready to drag your carcass
unfolding your truth
falling in dust.

Satish Verma

THE TWILIGHT

You start abbreviating the pretention,
caring for the end of a perennial revenge –
of slain truth, finding depth in arguments
which will spawn more violence.

Come my friend, come. Sit with me.
Let us search together the solitary
death in living past. Ultimate space was
a great deception of the eternal silence.

Clayey mood again depicts the pain
between your moons. I go for a play in dust
of time. The beats of heart will not wear
a sword now.

One hope finds a moon-belt on the hills
where the shadows walk with stars.
I will wait for the sun to rise.

Satish Verma

A FAMILY DUST

A thirsty town fails, harvesting the moon,
and turns into a vast lake of tears.
They were fighting for their right to remain
poor and hungry. It was a fractured
amnesia in the pit of flesh.

Was it a pink rose? No one had planted
a kiss on the lips of a thorn. An unbuttoned
triangle snaps the cold and opens the thighs
of a tulip valley. Drop by dropp honeydew
dances into a hairy lap.

The shooting stars go into trance, multiply
the intimate minutes and indulge in
sprouting the horns. The longest night feels
betrayed and beseeches foremothers to
conceive again.

Satish Verma

AFTER THE STORM

Unfettered for a little while, I was
catching the sleep visitor. It hurts
when the dream ends and a poem starts.
An eucalyptus, drinking lots of water, throwing the aroma
incensing the air, I pick up the fallen seeds of light
in winter solstice, befriending the home traumas.

Fireflies leave the scorched marks of daydreaming.
I talk to moon for sometime and leave my address
with him. Tomorrow he will come to inherit the
pain. I wanted a sunless garden to commit
the sin of forgetting you. The night will find
me undying till eternity.

In my words I carry the charred remains
of time which smells the hunger of tomorrow.

Satish Verma

O LOVE

You tend to ostracize the apparition
setting the real culprit free. It does not matter
to pretend now, a damaged house
has become a burden.

Who was playing the enmity card?
Hammered, eyes wide open I start documenting
the deceit of a parrot flower. Your past
had become the shackles, not the road map
of family.

An enormous hate was buried in your trees.
O death-trap, the bees will not come to your
flowers. Your gifts are lying around me
unattended. I will ask no more any pardon.

The moon has walked away. My sky
was unanswerable. The theater will play
another star-crossed brand names.

Satish Verma

FOOTPRINTS IN DARK

Diplomacy of inconstancy
unmeets the urgency. Aura
of brilliance was falling in your feet.

After the death, it was not a name,
only a frozen body.We moved backward
swiftly, to find out the footprints in dark.

Winter was becoming harsh and
less meaningful. A weak muscle brokers
a peace for dewdrops on rose petals.

I become an earlier story, failed.
Pick up the moon rocks
and start throwing them at sun.


Satish Verma

NAÏVE INNOCENCE

O pink horse, O timeless sun,
run on my body, run. Black magic
had pierced the needles into my heart.

Lying on nails to wrest a superearth
from amnesty, I start bandaging the bruised
ethos of my native conscience –

on the spike of a violence, refusing
to give up my home to fire, tending
the voiceless flora of a virgin rock.

The questions stand up, against
the black walls of silence. The blue birds
are going to fly in white desert.

Satish Verma

19 December, 2009

HELMETED VERSION

Will the shouts work
on blood seeds in climate of conflicts?
Winter was shrinking.

Give me a hand.
I am going to invite clouds softly.
Let the drumming start.

War has broken out
on many fronts
for a god, for the grains

and for the golden gates.
Where shall we plant
the sacred tulsi?

You need a holy soil for that.
The transliteration of a famished lake
throws a foul smell.

Will you be able to walk
on the ice again?
Outside the climate of change?


Satish Verma

HUMAN LAB

Half-buried in a mud pit,
a polluter bares all, body and soul.
Hands bound, ready to be stoned
to death.

A god was going to kill a god.
A dense judgement of planet green
of an unreliable sun
scribbling a code of conduct.

My god, I will go insane.
Save my woods I say. How can
be the adam was so naked running
in a race gene altered?

My arthritic fingers again lift
a mansion of gold leaves, dissolving
the sky.


Satish Verma

I WANT NOTHING

A stunning hurl of androids
on command, pulled by empty space when
a talking primate decides
the course of universe.

A non-existent living
from moment to moment prepares
a moon man to jump into religion
for salvation.

The wedding of tin sliced,
dumping bodies, of forsaken brides
of gloom, widens the want of rocks
and people give a black-lipped approval.

A plane load of hand grenades
and missiles and rocket launchers
nourish the smug ideas of a watershed
on the discovery of self.


Satish Verma

LET ME GO INTO SNOW

Audacity to live with your demons,
putting up a fake love belief,
who was the time,
of that dark night? Distinctly alive to what
I was not just putting up the shades of death
into nothingness of peace in war.

Searching for self in capacious hope,
was it the half-light of a moon,
slipped on the words of a hoisted grief?
A wild truth was better than silken ribbons
of fabricated lies. I am tired of playing
games on the turf of synthetic desires.

It would be time again, for what was time,
encapsulated in crazy dialogues of taking on
a chaste enemy. I will give my life for
a bright red rose in absence of sun, drenched
in fire and burning in dew drops, for the
flowering of melting snow.


Satish Verma

MUTATION

Like black birds
homing in twilight, to the tree
my thoughts make a perfect landing.

I lift the silence in sleep.
A flying snake enters
a pink room.

A bullet pierces the heart.
No acolytes, I will
catch myself the drifting smell

of eternal caress. Basking
in pain I pluck up my
trail in rubble of dreams.

You defy the likeness to god
become poor like an undershirt.
and walk straight.


Satish Verma

ENORMOUS GUILT

Cannot stare
coming on terror radar. Every night there
was Celsius rise in deadpeace. The climate
debt of a dark cloud was changing.

What is going to happen, tell me blindfolded.
We have a never or nothing attitude. The
roads were on edge, grazing under a blood
spinning midnight lamp, like a whipped

up cream of convenient truths. A subterranean
anger was banging against the wailing
wall. We did little in our synchronized
failure. Nobody was going to blink.

A tooth was smashed by a flying missile
of a homegrown myth. The glacier was
shy of a black fire. A holy moon becomes
opaque in white winter.


Satish Verma

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

STONING DARK

What was the ethics of homefires
when homeostasis had gone awry?
There were no concrete truths.
I will not wear the lies instead
like fly ash on my bloodied shirt.

The old habits die hard;
the beds of flesh and bones, carry the
strange innocent meanings of heavy
eyelids which could not beat the silk
of green eyes of a sun.

A miracle was needed to undo the
thighs of mermaid who went to sleep on the
rocks of jealousy. The sky-blue flames
rise again from the navel of infidel love
who had inherited the golden moon.

Satish Verma

FAILED IMMORTALITY

Blaze was coming to terms
with pyrotechnic cascade.
The dignity was emotionally drained out.

The persona turned to anima,
to find out the answer
for quality verdict.

A rogue mission had flattened
the brain. The piano man was dead
and climate was changing.

The safe, warm and wrapped up
seed, hiding in the mouth of a
drowned moon exploded in the silent

sea of telling thoughts.
A trembling tongue will spurt
out translated earth.


Satish Verma

WE WILL SCREAM TOGETHER

Managing his guilts to seduce the nocturnes
he left the gray area, surging
with a wandering death on the
half broken stairs –
before a closed gate was put on the pages,
he was trembling like toothed quaking aspen.

The grief of the scarred face,
in a serious midnight syndrome of
invisible slit throat in a long journey manifested
above the waves. Tree was calling again
for immoralism of flowers, quashing
his life.

The brave violence survives the mutilated
dreams.For once the mirror has won
again the onslaught of fingers.


Satish Verma

CHRONICITY

I was keeping a vigil in holy town
on a water cut. Lucy, Lucy did you have
a dirty mind?

This luciferina, will not tell the truth.
Venus and Venus flytrap had a
parallel birth.

And I was facing the dismembered tragedy
of freedom, unblooded in alien land
of unthinkable prayers.

Where the country will carry my pilgrimage
of fears and apprehensions? I thought,
and therefore I disappeared.

In convoy of great ideas, the escort was
a beautiful god, who went to sleep
when assault came.


Satish Verma

A LONE WARRIOR

You have put up the price on your shirt.
I have started seeing the return
of the death instinct. The curtain falls
on profile of joy, of giving away.

A solid swelling of clotted ego
of antimatter shows frugality
in spending of laughter. It was
a total consumption of beautiful lips.

That was that, of hollowness of globes
and golden peacocks. A seed of mildew
implants a kiss on the nakedness of greed.
How far the want will go in dark

for the scent of transgression?
Today I am going to meet a blind angel.

Satish Verma

ONE SIMPLE DAY

For honour killing
twilight adulates an abstract faith.
Tainted?

Now that mouth was shut
and butterfly was pinned,
will you grow the marigolds?

The empty book was not breathing
in a crowd of words.
The bitter meaning had flown away.

The mountain will cry now
in the absence of birds.
Trees were shedding their leaves.


Satish Verma

02 December, 2009

DIFFERENT SHADES

Do you envision a creeping fear
climbing the minaret
to reach the moon?

A debate has started
between believers and non-believers.
Why not he who lives

in eternal emptiness climbs down
and settles the dispute of hymns
in the scortching heat of words.

I just want you to read
the script and don’t say, a sky
has wept

dropp by dropp on the nakedness
of human beings
who could not cover their shadows.


Satish Verma

AGEISM

a pervasive bareness
walks like an honest lie
on the road to truth the bone white marble
god oversees the planet green’s woes
a climate change of heart its manipulations
its intrigues

something remains unsaid when i look back
i think again before i disappear between
bread and god whosover is stronger
than me i remained unchained distrusting
the rules laid down by hoaxes now i
am not me

i am not a god i am not a thought only
innocence of an unopened bud.


Satish Verma

GRAMMAR

Only the love-birds will know
it was time of inquisition.
There was a lot of prodding in
the neighbourhood.

A voice without sound
was resenting with guilt-virginity
and the bell tolls
for a zero hour.

The entrusted trust was
still moving off the transparency.
Was it not a weird night?

The newly hatched babies,
jutting out their necks
from their clay homes were
to know the roots of verbs.


Satish Verma

NAKED FREEDOM (A sequel to the massacre of 23rd Nov 09 in Philippines)

Intended to violate
the omnipresent,
stillness unzips the inviolate –
truth.

You walk through a legend:
To test the chastity
you need to dip your hand
in a very hot oil.

A sleepless summer night
descends on the hill
violins in dark
lie mutilated.

Hidden tracks will not tell
from where came the pattern
of enemies entering
the bloodied moon.

Satish Verma

* YES

Untie the knot, patriarch,
the broken kiss was
intimidating.

The backhoe picks up the
devil, it was within you
when you were casting stone
at the fear.

The pagan was covered
with leaves
raw and pailful;

belief in a thought
was not working,
think, man think.

The system,
the birth of rebirth of sorrow
was the tragedy.

The shaper,
I am, still wandering
to find the words.



* After reading the massacare of 57 people in southern island of Mindanao, Philippines on 23rd Nov 09

Satish Verma

NOMENCLATURE

O leviathan,
enter the dark cloud of death
defanging fire,
the mountain wants to shiver.

Sand was slipping from my fists.
I cannot hold the time;
wet eyes
will find another moon.

The milk had dried up in body.
A heart burns like bonfire,
for a heretic. A lone stranger
in a city of wolves.

A bareback beauty sits on the rock
waits for the sea
to bring her the poison. An Aphrodite
will never call for nothing.


Satish Verma

SCARF ON HEAD

Tangled clues
with sensuous sparring;
the incense was rising from the blue moon.

It was body’s integrity,
a lender was demanding
when lust had become prodigal.

Behind the thin veil, red eyes
stared unblinkingly
at the portrait of a nude zero.

When the light was nodding from a crown
the darkness spat on the feet
which walked on the roses.

A single thorn will not be envious
of the licking fingers.
A dropp of blood will tell the truth.



Satish Verma

OF THE NEXT ZEN

When moon was found on water
sky came down with unclenched fist,
too proud to accept the defeat.

Footprints of a giant will not leave
the broken landscape, of the virgin garden
where roses died in a row in storm.

There were no absolutes in good and bad
I have started talking to trees to shed
their blooms, winter was coming in blue eyes.

My ship was able to dodge the icebergs
wringing the waves from your face;
lake heaved a sigh of relief in glided death.



Satish Verma

24 November, 2009

A CRACKED VISIT

The other sex was stapled,
I started unfolding the secret:
what was static and who was silent.

I searched, therefore I was lost
before the end of journey.
The stench of grafting was taking over.

The incendiary recce was carried out
to shut out the voice of the street
in the melting snow.

Lake will find the woods for disquieting
sleep of muse under the blue-lipped moon,
and I will face my night.



Satish Verma

SMALL TALK

Surge in hidden chastity
enters the torch but the enemy
was within.

Brown clouds over the black carbon,
glaciers were melting;
the assault rifle stands alone in snow.

This was not ignorance,
a purposeful denial of white truce
in the jungle of lizards.

I would go where nobody wants
to tread in night. The hanging years
of marriage gone wrong.

O my God, tiger at the door,
demanding a new babe every moon.
The flesh will extract its own blood.



Satish Verma

DRAGGING

The Asperger syndrome: you will not speak,
you will not tell me about
fertilizer bomb. In a farmhouse blackwater
becomes a death chamber.

A toddler falls in a borewell,
you can still measure hypothermia,
the tilting of meteor saves the landfall,
stalking through the extended body.

What was the right thing in a chorus of protests
to underline the resilience of beaks and claws?
It bugs the space and diameters of arguments
about the sweep of corruption in integrities.

It is very difficult to stay being whole amidst
the broken shards of bones. The dreams were
set in stones and water was rising.




Satish Verma

ABDICATION

It was a domestic pain,
when we came apart in boots and helmets.
Taking the shine away, moon gave up the fight
on lake, against the clouds, a sniper
intuitingly, started a homicidal blasting
to start the rains.

An ode to sepia needs scrutiny;
cuttlefish had a second thought. No faith
permits the slaughter of septa. Walls were squinting
to see better. A square root will find the squall,
between the breaths. Beyond arousal of oceans
a shaken, surreal, blast from a craven rifle.




Satish Verma

FALLING BRICKS

From the blank book can I
lift some questions for the lofty hopes
when I lost myself near the home?

The fear was darting inside the white sores.
Keys were lost for the answers
and truth fell castrated.

The magic was fading from the cusps
of designs, unconceived thoughts were
seeking proportionate punishments.

Congeniality drifted from the
architect of hominid species. A nameless
storm plays havoc. Humble peaks bow

before the unmeasured meteors. You
can shut the orphanage now; no
bombs are bound for the wet crypts.


Satish Verma

STAR STRUCK

i, thirst for nudging
the butter lamp to peep inside
the dark of a Shiva crater
of human suffering,

between your pain and my blood
there was ancient history,
where will you go now, no
light has touched you so far

the moon takes a bath inside
a sleeping volcano of perfect
aches, staring in the sad eyes
of a fauna

brace your window and taste
your memory, lift the quivering hands
to welcome the blank pages
of future



Satish Verma

VAPORIZATION

Death denial of candlelit vigil for a fallen harbor
brought the climate change for a flag which flew
at half-staff. The noose was tightening around the
open-hearted blossoms. A dead sea has started
selling its salt to land sharks.

These days I am becoming introvert. The needles
have become blind, cannot stitch the god given
sores, the private tears of a soldier wounded
at home by the hands of a friend. Missed abortion
of a truth.

I thought of lies inside her lips, my solid
mate who set my skin blue after I drank her
proffered drink of hemlock. I stripped to the
bones for a glow of death which comes when
you give away your life for a pink sun.




Satish Verma

WITH LICORICE

Throw yourself on a time bomb
howling, breaking the words,
twisting the letters, reciting a prayer
after the rise of a monomania in the
face of mankind.

I am becoming poorer everyday
by grace of filth all around. Cannot hear
myself now in the marching band of curses
and abuse; a scion hides a fawn from
the eyes of wild bulls.

A hierarchy of buried skeletons, spineless
dinosaurs lying under the shadows of technicolor
maps and letting freeze the time. The music
was lapped by passersby. The world
was moving in circle.



Satish Verma

13 November, 2009

LOOKING BACK

half-clad
cult of violence
boiling their
soulmates

roasting
the foes

one by one
killed
by a ligature
they were building the dams
to harvest the power
from tears

fear
climbs on your shoulders
unburns hydrocarbons
a train moves through the black cloud
night

lies naked



Satish Verma

POETRY

The flesh was putting up a brave dialogue.
I was willing to play the game.
Stunned, shocked, pleasantly sore
basking in heat of silk throat,

I asked the needles to go ahead
and stitch the wounds without loss of blood.
Wasps were waiting to light the candles,
so that they can attack the pink skin.

The fruit bats were hanging upside down;
time for fellatio. A boundary was submerged
in deluge of anger. It was a white night
for an ice cream cone. God bless the queen.


Satish Verma

LOVE IN ORIGINAL

After a soot rain
the grey fear moved centripetally, seeking centrum;
thoughts, saffron colored, in the words
went mute.

You were still searching the head,
of a nameless torso, in a heap of your failures.
The river had run dry.

Why were you trying to revise the script
of anthem after the man made inferno?
A mushroom cloud was heading this way.

Ah, the prickly lips still eject the same
agenda for dualism,
now the yellow metal was nickel-plated.

Outside the stoic redemption falls the reality.
Man had become a crypt on a grave
of less guilty.


Satish Verma

THE TROUBLED FAITH

That vertical sink
loaded with cargo
fraught,
with pools of blackened blood
burned me.


I never arrived
at a moot prologue
for the journey of dead.

The sun turned away
in a doubt
under a smoked trance of helplessness.

Perhaps it was true of a murder
in serene weather
when the astrologia was opposite.

The charred landscape
dithered about the lilies.
Will they come back?



Satish Verma

HOMECOMING

The yellow beaked vultures were waiting.
A cloth bag contains the bleached
remains; his father.
Impeccable gift unmasked.
After the inferno, hydrants went dry. The guilt survives
the dispossession, pondering over the black dew
now covering the pink roses.

The illusion persists. Master is coming home.
jug was empty. A miracle will start
the kitchen. An infant cries in the backyard.

The windows were sleeping. Let the sun
stand outside. A yellow moon at night will
open the door.


Satish Verma

*PLASMA SCREEN

It was an absent answer. Terror
was one abyss in unhindered
waking of eternity in being. The passions rise
between downpour of black rings on the terraces,
was nonstop a parade of excuses and pretentions, no
body was taking the responsibility of the war lost, and
we nod in unison. Hunger drives the wedge. This
is a city of moonless sky where the headcount
never stops.

Warriors sit down under the volts opening red
eyes, the trade gets a bad name, rubbers
win the coin. Yellow metal gleams around arms,

a wound becomes a talisman, you start collecting
the awards from severed hands.

*On watching a massive blaze of gas depot at Jaipur (India) unebbed for 3 days.

Satish Verma

UNBORN

you enter the lair again
dun – colored
shrapnel was on your lips

to hear your truth I lay down
the book
and look beyond the acid rain
falling after the explosion

the yellow flames still lapping
against the crater walls
jasmines were alive

dented memories wer climbing
on hills before you can unsee
the moon bleeding to death


Satish Verma

ABANDONED

the punctuations
start crumbling
a soldier
falls to coyotes
this was their space

a moon was sitting
in waiting room
inhabiting war at
a defining moment

it was a fatal attack from
the guards impersonal
ripping through the passions
to hold or not to hold

the fruit – end was near


Satish Verma

LOST MY NAME

Did you taste the ejecta
after a sacred ritual of exploding
a makeshift bomb in a crowded market?

I am worried.
I am becoming death, curling backward.
The wood spirits have started a fire dance.

The healing, yes, it comes from the blood
of steel, they claim, the blackness of a hole
has a purity.

Hunger starts a riot of lewdness in the
ribs of an empire. A skull on the hill
betrays a slaughter of young boys.

The makers of AK-47 were repenting,
for the brutal aura. I have started
telling lies.


Satish Verma

SECRET WAKE

savage

running under the moon
selling the night

sanitizing

the hands
after the killing

truth
withdrawl
vaginae still inviolate
seeds wiped off
from the face of earth

ethnic cleaning



Satish Verma

APPROXIMATELY

ripening on the tree
loosing erection
the redeemer comes back to orphanage

for the biggest fraud of times
we are playing with each other
hide and seek

cutting edge I plant
chrysanthemums in my esplanade
at least they give company

you know gold plus
flowers make a very potent elixir
cold-blooded sure to melt a steel

through knobs you enter
the laughing eyes would you
mind to take off the extra wrinkles


Satish Verma

SPLITTING

Touched by moon, I pick up
a black rose,
to return the debt.

Very high
the fire, returns in my eyes.
I start burning in your arms.

The parting,
crawls in the bed
I cannot speak nor cry.


Why it had to happen
after sunset,
when the leafless tree was waiting?


Satish Verma

TOXIC MEMORY

They were teaching how to butcher
the lamb
and suspend the bines with
drooping hops.
I climbed out of my ashes towards
a marinated moon turned blue in consternation.

Warts and all, here we were ready
to pick up the lost threads to start
a conversation about the hurricane making
landfall, in near future.

After the fall, graffiti appeared on
the clouds, spurting sperms
on the stars.


Satish Verma

CUDDLING

between unequals
to and fro
beastly joy of horror
you want to press the trigger,

timebomb, your laughter,
and sneaky mind
restless syndrome of legs
you cannot stand on tiptoes
to review the fall
from the clouds

the moon overshot
the endless night
sun rises gently
on the window


Satish Verma

DIVINITY WITHOUT

Your fangs open like lips.
I am ready for the kiss of death
at a war zone, where I was adrift
holding the flame, moments
stabbed by hot bullets.

Black and white words break the
embrace, I cannot study the bandona now.
Eyes winged, were sailing to distant
lands of smugness, a darkening calm
taking over the poems.

The pungent stink hurts, I swim
without water on dry riverbed, becoming
target for kalashnikov, the courtyard
filled by encroaching blood,
dominion of silent sobs.



Satish Verma

EXPORTING

That kind of kiss and runoff.
Why don’t you concede to the fraud?
It was a haunted dilemma,
kidnapping of a verdict.

Dinosaurs were wiped out
by a clean sweep of a meteorite
long back, millions of years. Now,
present ones, tiny reptiles

still survivng in water, air and
earth by active faults.
The great Indian Bustard was again
sighted in a poor man’s field.

Are you a moon friendly?
I am dispossessing all my domestic clouds.



Satish Verma

A MONUMENT

Wanting to feel your breath
in this room, in half-light, my hands
opened the window to let him in,
the green moon.

For so much violence in everyday life.
let’s break a poem and sqeeze its honey
and carve only feet, of invisible fear.

When I had run after a dream
the frills of your gown caught fire;
at the door a music stopped

to listen to rustling of a caged bird
longing for the green flight of a silent
morning joining a procession of a recent
mythical hurt.


Satish Verma

SUN’S INHERITANCE

This was a raw thing.
A paranoid template for AK-47 rifles. The
homemade bombs were planted on the roadside.
A very explosive blend of a fedayeen. You
cannot take it anymore this jihad. In everyday
life inside comes out in the graveyard. It drizzles,
the fake beliefs.

A bleak panaroma. Pansexual desire. Black
boulders, reddish cheeks,
moon falling on so many of stars!
I want a burntout sun.


Satish Verma

DARK LANGUAGE

Wanted to wear the grief uncrying,
sitting on the bank, counting the waves,
watching the swaying of earthen lamps.

There was a little water on the moon,
charged atoms settling in the lap of a sponge.
The water becomes the moon,
floating on goat’s milk.

My descent starts to find the truth.
Where the water has gone from the eyes?
The mirrors always tell the lie.

The headless body writhes in the dust,
words change the author of a murder.
A crowd finds a knife only.

Once again a century weeps!



Satish Verma

IMMORTALITY

A very disconnecting creek where bodies
were found, presents a pictorial death in night,
which must be challenged, I say. Then I think without
thoughts; summer was ending and a pandemic
was at the door. The art of debating the image
sears the mind. Must act, think later: the gold

coins have been thrown in the market, the
frozen lens behind the slit eyes watch the cargo
unloading: the explosions come in spate. What
was it – greed or fear? We are running blindly,
the brides, the boys, the men. Of modern governance
a metaphysical meditation.

The strings pulled behind the curtain, game
starts. Award is gifted. The name dies.


Satish Verma

STRIKING PORTRAIT

A silvery,
fluting cry of a sleepless moon
on the pillow of a twilight sleep:
an enigma I wanted to share
with a skylark.

From the disbelief rises a sulphur
cloud to thaw the ice on the tongue of a dawn.
First ray of sunlight starts flirting,
with a dew dropp on a wet rose.

It was not a poem but a thought
crossing a bridge into eternity,
for a sparkle in the pain of life,
a hymn to be recited without understanding
the meaning.



Satish Verma

CRISSCROSS

When speed overtakes you, incision on
black marble crashes. Before the moonrise
your bygone sister falls in your arms
crying.

Babydeath had jumped from the second
floor to meet the earthquake of icy
forgetfulness in wild fire. A landslide
wanted to know, who was to be blamed?

Wind is split on two counts.One was
the lazy sun and second were the clouds
in absence. An evil eye has a theme of
breeding resentment of withdrawl from a romantic hug.

Tossed in a deathbin, a snail tries to
climb on a hot wall of bonelight.


Satish Verma

SOMETHING HUMAN

beautiful girls
formless of criminal honesty
falling in love with endymion

a wave is furrowed on the forehead
of selene, envy or a genetic trigger
starts a nightmare

fading star heralds a
gray moon
leaves are falling

like my words
from your lips, are you beside
me in green silence

i was watching
the sun falling on the wings
of black birds


Satish Verma

ALL I REMEMBER

Your world collapses A name shies of comeback
breaks the water for bare bones unaligned you
hunker down for the happenings didnot fit

in the shoes of black magic it was a damned
reversal of the pygmies to become tall the old city
dies on the hill young steps start a never ending

descent of the wheels can you stop this vintage flow
in night king was sitting without a glass
rolling stones were laughing after the conversation

and the sons of soil smashed the barriers
after the illumination cacti become prominently displayed
in the jungle of weeds wearing nightgowns of thorns

two headed snakes lapping up the milk from the teats
of a moon the cow jumps on the hemlocks amidst
the cries of children of tomorrow



Satish Verma

DEAF AND DUMB

Are you sleeping with hate?
I wanted to know, does it have a meaning?
For we human beings, any equals in plants and animals?

There was this audacious betrayal of a brute force
to behead a beautiful lass, a scion of fine race.
The baby king was still sleeping in his tomb.

Tut, we were talking of a Kamikaze attack on
Tutenkhamun. Living in piece meals, walking
Alongside the wall only, fear writ large on the face

the moon birth had gone waste. Eye donors were
waiting for the vision in darkness of violence,
the hstages were thrown out limb by limb,

the crazy world going berserk. Somebody
was carring flowers on the beach. My words
were losing the edge. I was dreaming of only bleeders.



Satish Verma

SERENE REVENGE

Unmoored in twilight, my most visible
hands were ready to slam on the moon
of stains to bring out the water of life.
A secondhand night was waiting for
an explosion,

which never came. How long will we go
to find the peace in surrogate truths
surrounded by thorns on lips? I was hanging
a painting of a fall in happy valley of
gender artists,

which I never appreciated. The high heeled
power of legs was no match to beautiful nails.
The walk on the ramp betrayed the ancient
footfalls reaching nowhere to nothingness on
revolving planet.

The masqueraders are still roaming free on
parole to snatch a prize for extraordinary
darkness generated by stars on the faces
of orphans tattooed by the whips of silence,
after all they were flung flowers.



Satish Verma

IRONY OF AUTHOR

In the absence of a consenting moon half
my night was in disarray, the density of poems
was draining out the grape wine from the eyes.

This amphitheater of your life: where you
are spectator and you are a player, past
the tears and past the happiness.

Find out the lost baby, where we slept.
A crying bundle on the tracks of bones.
You cannot carry the outstretched alms, need to stop
the train of thoughts.

Green boys were hiding in their sleeves.
Did you perform your role well in speaking
your dialogue on the stage and give a loud
laughing call?



Satish Verma

TURBULENCE

A night out with mosquitoes for a sharp
comment of urgency to end the war after a decapitated
unnamed flesh of words found six inches short
I can write only poems This very ordinary life appears
to be worthless

without vocabulary unsemantic between us I am
enslaved alive going beyond the stings in my
heart I try to find my voice burning inside a never
gone pain do you hear me I am very lonely in the
jungle of falls Am I descending

infarcts are spreading the paresis inability
to raise the finger fear of manuscript I am
never was there in cloudless desert the starless
night moonless sky it is very dark Out
of emptiness comes an explosion Is it a new creation



Satish Verma

MINACIA

Dismentaling the menace
very discreetly, the matchmakers
walked over the hurricane to bring
back showers.

Unreachable, moon was smiling
in the blue sky. The maidens were busy
in observing a fast to get a muse.
A million stars went on counting the sins.

Innocent milk will fill up the breasts
of waiting mothers whose children
were coming back from the front. The
shadows were changing with weather.

Inertia of dust turns into a sculptor,
with eyesless sight. A mask falls
from a reclining god.



Satish Verma

RETURNING

You come home, sitting on my shoulders.
I bid you farewell at door. Death tiptoes in dark
before looking at the bare hands. A new concept of
ending comes out from crozier. Uncoiling has stopped.
In loincloth a truth unravels the mystery of cells. A
warm transparency. You walk around objectively,
returning the gifts to birds, bees and aspens. It
was time not to put up excuses. The wings are tired
and wind was falling.

Let the dance of nothingness start!


Satish Verma

OUTRAGEOUS

Everybody was half-naked on the trail
of curves. Braindead. Emptied thought.
A single vacant look.
“Why me? ” I ask. Stay stupid in the crowd. Looking
at the moon, indulgent. Plucking the nector from
knobs of naked flames.

No coming back from days of unknowing
the secrets of unskopen words. A cry stifles
in the throat of a prayer.

A moon was found on a dump!



Satish Verma

CROSSBARS

The depression,
human brand was trapped.

They were talking about
the nukes.

To annihilate
the earth. It was elemental,

I said. An ardent
fan of moon.

A lark asks
who will survive?



Satish Verma

MOODS

coming out of the frame,
in evening without a sun, unflinchingly,
he said, he was talking to his father
daily, in his mind, who was in grave,
(when he was on ventilator)
about a lesson of deception, about the things
evolved in endogamy,

cherubic, it seems, but there was water on the moon too,
in solitude, on gravel, under the rocks;
he kept on washing his hands for hours,
to remove the dirt and stigma, gathered on shaking
the lamps around the dark and then he started
collecting the flowers from the embroidery
of clouds

do not cry in the afternoon



Satish Verma

BREATHING DUST

Do not stoke the desires tonight,
my moon is away on the cusp of doubts.
Count you must the needles in heart, of
ifs and buts? A fragile truce was anathema
to me. The nagging day lies ahead –

of my failing gifts. Living was a whispering
silence, no secrets had a spite for you.
A fine drizzle of thoughts fills the lungs,
mind cries for the space to arrange
the corpses of dreams.

The uncertainties take a heavy toll.
A new voice precedes a wet moon,
the sun was rising late today, living apart.


Satish Verma

02 November, 2009

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FLYING BEARD

like ether, permeating all space
mesmerizing,
he walked away, head of his enemy
in his hand,

like a trophy?
frighteningly orangish
a decapitated body shudders.

The holy war
demands its price of a joke.
The face of red and blue.

A terrible reminder of a snaky past
that kills the puppets. The hands
dance in air.

The irrepairable, pink wounds
bleed, sweat smoke
of death?


Satish Verma

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01 November, 2009

TOXIC MEMORY

They were teaching how to butcher
the lamb
and suspend the bines with
drooping hops.
I climbed out of my ashes towards
a marinated moon turned blue in consternation.

Warts and all, here we were ready
to pick up the lost threads to start
a conversation about the hurricane making
landfall, in near future.

After the fall, graffiti appeared on
the clouds, spurting sperms
on the stars.


Satish Verma

CUDDLING

between unequals
to and fro
beastly joy of horror
you want to press the trigger,

timebomb, your laughter,
and sneaky mind
restless syndrome of legs
you cannot stand on tiptoes
to review the fall
from the clouds

the moon overshot
the endless night
sun rises gently
on the window



Satish Verma

DIVINITY WITHOUT

Your fangs open like lips.
I am ready for the kiss of death
at a war zone, where I was adrift
holding the flame, moments
stabbed by hot bullets.

Black and white words break the
embrace, I cannot study the bandona now.
Eyes winged, were sailing to distant
lands of smugness, a darkening calm
taking over the poems.

The pungent stink hurts, I swim
without water on dry riverbed, becoming
target for kalashnikov, the courtyard
filled by encroaching blood,
dominion of silent sobs.


Satish Verma

EXPORTING

That kind of kiss and runoff.
Why don’t you concede to the fraud?
It was a haunted dilemma,
kidnapping of a verdict.

Dinosaurs were wiped out
by a clean sweep of a meteorite
long back, millions of years. Now,
present ones, tiny reptiles

still survivng in water, air and
earth by active faults.
The great Indian Bustard was again
sighted in a poor man’s field.

Are you a moon friendly?
I am dispossessing all my domestic clouds.



Satish Verma

A MONUMENT

Wanting to feel your breath
in this room, in half-light, my hands
opened the window to let him in,
the green moon.

For so much violence in everyday life.
let’s break a poem and sqeeze its honey
and carve only feet, of invisible fear.

When I had run after a dream
the frills of your gown caught fire;
at the door a music stopped

to listen to rustling of a caged bird
longing for the green flight of a silent
morning joining a procession of a recent
mythical hurt.


Satish Verma

SUN’S INHERITANCE

This was a raw thing.
A paranoid template for AK-47 rifles. The
homemade bombs were planted on the roadside.
A very explosive blend of a fedayeen. You
cannot take it anymore this jihad. In everyday
life inside comes out in the graveyard. It drizzles,
the fake beliefs.

A bleak panaroma. Pansexual desire. Black
boulders, reddish cheeks,
moon falling on so many of stars!
I want a burntout sun.

Satish Verma

DARK LANGUAGE

Wanted to wear the grief uncrying,
sitting on the bank, counting the waves,
watching the swaying of earthen lamps.

There was a little water on the moon,
charged atoms settling in the lap of a sponge.
The water becomes the moon,
floating on goat’s milk.

My descent starts to find the truth.
Where the water has gone from the eyes?
The mirrors always tell the lie.

The headless body writhes in the dust,
words change the author of a murder.
A crowd finds a knife only.

Once again a century weeps!



Satish Verma

MMORTALITY

A very disconnecting creek where bodies
were found, presents a pictorial death in night,
which must be challenged, I say. Then I think without
thoughts; summer was ending and a pandemic
was at the door. The art of debating the image
sears the mind. Must act, think later: the gold

coins have been thrown in the market, the
frozen lens behind the slit eyes watch the cargo
unloading: the explosions come in spate. What
was it – greed or fear? We are running blindly,
the brides, the boys, the men. Of modern governance
a metaphysical meditation.

The strings pulled behind the curtain, game
starts. Award is gifted. The name dies.


Satish Verma

STRIKING PORTRAIT

A silvery,
fluting cry of a sleepless moon
on the pillow of a twilight sleep:
an enigma I wanted to share
with a skylark.

From the disbelief rises a sulphur
cloud to thaw the ice on the tongue of a dawn.
First ray of sunlight starts flirting,
with a dew dropp on a wet rose.

It was not a poem but a thought
crossing a bridge into eternity,
for a sparkle in the pain of life,
a hymn to be recited without understanding
the meaning.



Satish Verma

CRISSCROSS

When speed overtakes you, incision on
black marble crashes. Before the moonrise
your bygone sister falls in your arms
crying.

Babydeath had jumped from the second
floor to meet the earthquake of icy
forgetfulness in wild fire. A landslide
wanted to know, who was to be blamed?

Wind is split on two counts.One was
the lazy sun and second were the clouds
in absence. An evil eye has a theme of
breeding resentment of withdrawl from a romantic hug.

Tossed in a deathbin, a snail tries to
climb on a hot wall of bonelight.


Satish Verma

SOMETHING HUMAN

beautiful girls
formless of criminal honesty
falling in love with endymion

a wave is furrowed on the forehead
of selene, envy or a genetic trigger
starts a nightmare

fading star heralds a
gray moon
leaves are falling

like my words
from your lips, are you beside
me in green silence

i was watching
the sun falling on the wings
of black birds


Satish Verma

ALL I REMEMBER

Your world collapses A name shies of comeback
breaks the water for bare bones unaligned you
hunker down for the happenings didnot fit

in the shoes of black magic it was a damned
reversal of the pygmies to become tall the old city
dies on the hill young steps start a never ending

descent of the wheels can you stop this vintage flow
in night king was sitting without a glass
rolling stones were laughing after the conversation

and the sons of soil smashed the barriers
after the illumination cacti become prominently displayed
in the jungle of weeds wearing nightgowns of thorns

two headed snakes lapping up the milk from the teats
of a moon the cow jumps on the hemlocks amidst
the cries of children of tomorrow



Satish Verma

DEAF AND DUMB

Are you sleeping with hate?
I wanted to know, does it have a meaning?
For we human beings, any equals in plants and animals?

There was this audacious betrayal of a brute force
to behead a beautiful lass, a scion of fine race.
The baby king was still sleeping in his tomb.

Tut, we were talking of a Kamikaze attack on
Tutenkhamun. Living in piece meals, walking
Alongside the wall only, fear writ large on the face

the moon birth had gone waste. Eye donors were
waiting for the vision in darkness of violence,
the hstages were thrown out limb by limb,

the crazy world going berserk. Somebody
was carring flowers on the beach. My words
were losing the edge. I was dreaming of only bleeders.


Satish Verma

SERENE REVENGE

Unmoored in twilight, my most visible
hands were ready to slam on the moon
of stains to bring out the water of life.
A secondhand night was waiting for
an explosion,

which never came. How long will we go
to find the peace in surrogate truths
surrounded by thorns on lips? I was hanging
a painting of a fall in happy valley of
gender artists,

which I never appreciated. The high heeled
power of legs was no match to beautiful nails.
The walk on the ramp betrayed the ancient
footfalls reaching nowhere to nothingness on
revolving planet.

The masqueraders are still roaming free on
parole to snatch a prize for extraordinary
darkness generated by stars on the faces
of orphans tattooed by the whips of silence,
after all they were flung flowers.



Satish Verma

IRONY OF AUTHOR

In the absence of a consenting moon half
my night was in disarray, the density of poems
was draining out the grape wine from the eyes.

This amphitheater of your life: where you
are spectator and you are a player, past
the tears and past the happiness.

Find out the lost baby, where we slept.
A crying bundle on the tracks of bones.
You cannot carry the outstretched alms, need to stop
the train of thoughts.

Green boys were hiding in their sleeves.
Did you perform your role well in speaking
your dialogue on the stage and give a loud
laughing call?


Satish Verma

TURBULENCE

A night out with mosquitoes for a sharp
comment of urgency to end the war after a decapitated
unnamed flesh of words found six inches short
I can write only poems This very ordinary life appears
to be worthless

without vocabulary unsemantic between us I am
enslaved alive going beyond the stings in my
heart I try to find my voice burning inside a never
gone pain do you hear me I am very lonely in the
jungle of falls Am I descending

infarcts are spreading the paresis inability
to raise the finger fear of manuscript I am
never was there in cloudless desert the starless
night moonless sky it is very dark Out
of emptiness comes an explosion Is it a new creation



Satish Verma

MINACIA

Dismentaling the menace
very discreetly, the matchmakers
walked over the hurricane to bring
back showers.

Unreachable, moon was smiling
in the blue sky. The maidens were busy
in observing a fast to get a muse.
A million stars went on counting the sins.

Innocent milk will fill up the breasts
of waiting mothers whose children
were coming back from the front. The
shadows were changing with weather.

Inertia of dust turns into a sculptor,
with eyesless sight. A mask falls
from a reclining god.


Satish Verma

RETURNING

You come home, sitting on my shoulders.
I bid you farewell at door. Death tiptoes in dark
before looking at the bare hands. A new concept of
ending comes out from crozier. Uncoiling has stopped.
In loincloth a truth unravels the mystery of cells. A
warm transparency. You walk around objectively,
returning the gifts to birds, bees and aspens. It
was time not to put up excuses. The wings are tired
and wind was falling.

Let the dance of nothingness start!


Satish Verma

OUTRAGEOUS

Everybody was half-naked on the trail
of curves. Braindead. Emptied thought.
A single vacant look.
“Why me? ” I ask. Stay stupid in the crowd. Looking
at the moon, indulgent. Plucking the nector from
knobs of naked flames.

No coming back from days of unknowing
the secrets of unskopen words. A cry stifles
in the throat of a prayer.

A moon was found on a dump!

Satish Verma

CROSSBARS

The depression,
human brand was trapped.

They were talking about
the nukes.

To annihilate
the earth. It was elemental,

I said. An ardent
fan of moon.

A lark asks
who will survive?


Satish Verma

MOODS

coming out of the frame,
in evening without a sun, unflinchingly,
he said, he was talking to his father
daily, in his mind, who was in grave,
(when he was on ventilator)
about a lesson of deception, about the things
evolved in endogamy,

cherubic, it seems, but there was water on the moon too,
in solitude, on gravel, under the rocks;
he kept on washing his hands for hours,
to remove the dirt and stigma, gathered on shaking
the lamps around the dark and then he started
collecting the flowers from the embroidery
of clouds

do not cry in the afternoon


Satish Verma

BREATHING DUST

Do not stoke the desires tonight,
my moon is away on the cusp of doubts.
Count you must the needles in heart, of
ifs and buts? A fragile truce was anathema
to me. The nagging day lies ahead –

of my failing gifts. Living was a whispering
silence, no secrets had a spite for you.
A fine drizzle of thoughts fills the lungs,
mind cries for the space to arrange
the corpses of dreams.

The uncertainties take a heavy toll.
A new voice precedes a wet moon,
the sun was rising late today, living apart.


SATISH VERMA

TRAVELLING TO MOON

Blood and bones
become qualification
watching and being watched.

Eyes in introspection
incubation
waking the black dawn.

Anguished
blank stares, after dispossession
collapse on the hills in confusion –

umpteen times. Ontogeny
repeats filial love
after parental loss.

Monofloral we stay,
you cannot do anything
except to collect the honey.

Shot in the face, my name.
The next tragedy
begins at home!

Break the cutlery
there is no water,
frogs will not jump today.


SATISH VERMA

31 October, 2009

EMPTY DAY

take back your smile,
the fish has died in my hands;
nowhere you have touched me
deep in the brutal corona of a black moon -

my sun spots were waning:
a hole in the wind, chased
adulthood of man for a frozen
infantile mutancy

something stopped you
to discover yourself in the rage:
what was it? I am refusing to believe
something between the unbuttoned
golden flesh of a mummy,

the old version dies hard, fear escapes
from amygdalae,
in mourning, comes the rainbow
of pain, the rain lashing on window
i am melting inside a cast

Satish Verma

30 October, 2009

TABLEAU

Again I scare myself
of the very thing.
Moon was landing on lake
for inward probe.

One presaged silence,
speaks, of the veracity of lovers
to grass, where no dropp drives a sun,
the red bricks build a shade.

Ragweed in a daisy field:
Ambrosia, I will not taste you
till the rainbow sits
in the meadow.

Round eyes
keep the dawn hidden /
under the lashes, sleep my saint
for a while, door was waiting for a knock.


Satish Verma

29 October, 2009

THE TANGO

Lips tremble
like sentinels
when legs burn like candles
whole night,

in the pocket a grenade explodes;
a girl gets raped in broad day light
to receive a compensation
under a leaky roof of frozen hunger:

the emptiness in bed
stirs a grain, a deemed birth of catastrophe
one classical tragedy begins

a lighthouse shuts when the ship sinks,
let us go on the bank to find the needles –
to start a dialogue with the moon,

when the tide comes
it will throw some heroes


Satish Verma

28 October, 2009

PUZZLES

hopscotch, retrieve a pebble
from the lake,

sitting under a tall tree
i will wait
for leaves to fall
on water;

i will see through my seeds
a relief of roses,

overnight
in the soccer field
tiny mushrooms
popped up, wearing white caps
to see the game –

turning the pages of a book
opens a museum,
i come on you
not accusative

Satish Verma

27 October, 2009

A DAY OF COUNTING

You gave it
when you were poor.
Today I went to unwrap the gift.
The soul! Ripping out from the body
to deconstruct my vernacular pain.

Pulling off the toenails to extract a promise.
Feet first; the birth of a child to die sooner in the crib.
My brother, tell me, do you understand
my imperishable grief.

For a future’s peace
sing my poem, sing ascendancy.
For laughing skulls in a killing field,
ideation will become a routine talk.

Give me a hand, brother,
am I insane?
Becoming teeth of wisdom was a crime?

Satish Verma

26 October, 2009

INDOORS

Today,
small things ask some uncomfortable
questions. I enter the eye of a wound.

Unscathed, will i obey the law
of believing; the round mirror?
It reflects the absolute truth?

Consolations,
they begin the attack in the valley
of thoughts; words, were hung
over the paper, spill the ink

like blood on the street.
Who will lift the corpse?

Words on the wings;
let them drop
like stones, like knives. The flesh is raw,
bones white a century is going to sing.

Satish Verma

DEATH’S REVERSAL

Coming to cephalic withdrawl,
sharing a deadly delusion,
O my world -
I will not ask,
I will not take back.
For my own liberation, I will set you free.

I am reversing myself,
my battles are still raging.
The flames have reached the tallest branches,
naked in sky:
Verga, why the drops are not going to come down?

Going alone in the woods,
to find the skeletons, in the shades of grief,
a deathless comp of apostates,
to start a revolution, we become
carpenters, carving totems.

The question marks are increasing
in wrinkles. On the shoulders of a lone tree
a black bird sings to an old moon.
Are there any worlds beyond the stars?

Inspired by a poem of famous urdu poet Allama Iqbal

ABHI ISHQ KE IMTIHAN AUR BHE HAIN
SITARON KE AAGAI JAHAN AUR BHE HAIN

Satish Verma

24 October, 2009

A CENTRIOLUM

Never in those sizzling conflicts
displaying the pink eyes
you were able to reach me.
Was it metagenesis,
forgetting your selfhood?

Fragments of a beast were floating on sea.
Was umblicus of death broken
in the crotch of a mother?
Lay the corn again on my palm
to smoulder in the heat of sun.
Hunger will take revenge now.

Burn, burn my truth, burn!
I was the creator,
and I was destroyer
at the helm of unbuttoning coal.

It was a black, black sky,
where the stars were hesitant to show their
centrioles.

After the sun rises in a black dawn
there will be no shocks.

Satish Verma

23 October, 2009

LOAVES

When the street was becoming alive
man had become a charged bull,
goring the god to death.
My father wept, took the corpse home,
that was his child.

In the wild fire, a tall eucalyptus
had burned, turned black.
What did you think, this year,
spring would not come?

I remained very sad those days.
When the self was me, my image
I was dying without death;
through the veils, I would not see.

Was the pinnacle of your is, was becoming
empty? Tell me when we would learn,
the tiny truth of a primate? Or become
snakes eating our own children?

Satish Verma

22 October, 2009

BLOODSCAPE

Monologue of a monolith
to live in a moment
was futile. A young house was in disorder.
Not listening, I would find the missing links.
Grey ash to be smeared on forehead in horizontal
lines for shifting the planets.

The age creeps quietly, irremediably poor,
unchanged in hysteria: after hysterectomy
the womb lies in dirt. Ethnic violence will fill
the carts of mutilated bodies, move to market,
selling the rage. Be in today, or tomorrow,
the blood brings honour.

Do not complain of weather, these arthritic
fingers, crooked toes, you will end on a cliff
after the logic of war fails. A bald year
moves, untrusting the noble men, I ascend
a coin to find the circa of topless democracies
destroying the pillars of feet.

Satish Verma

21 October, 2009

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

20 October, 2009

BOLD STEP

Night enters into the drift.
I get through a fossil, quite beyond
the light, a search begins for a tortured
being in some ideal’s mire.

The battle begins, of fears and doubts
and upon the trampled sun-blind truths
of past in dry desert of hungry sands
where the veined clot rises to the lung of moon.

Revival of black magic takes place, marking
the boundaries of denial, you will not cross
the line of fire, till the shade between evil
and good was obliterated and sins become
bones of dreams.

Will you wait on the gate, till eternity
accepts you as a forgotten child of
wronged parents? I shall start calling
the names of innocent bystanders.

Satish Verma

19 October, 2009

PURSUIT

the solid rock, from its tallest perch
was tumbling down, after navel – gazing –
in songs of darkness; had the hidden
aloofness in space and time,

i have become a tree, intend to teach
the truth of roots; eating the body
of gods, one prayer changes the fright
of depth, meanwhile you become the ethnic wait

in sprawling riots, the inside of ire was
very red; screams, bends, shakes, takes away
emotional blackmail, hairs standing like
candles burning, the conditioning was over –

in granite falls, it was rain of tears on
flames of freedom at the street, a crowd
becomes a large leaf swaying on the waves of a red
river, flowing sensuously in a young city

Satish Verma

18 October, 2009

FUGITIVE SWAN

a moonache levitates
on blue lake
you shot me at close range

predictable encounter
the whole truth had plunged
between two eyes

self flagellation
of the waves on beach
i was walking on marigolds

your body becomes a flute
when i was writing an epilogue
on the life of a gold leaf

it was raining on the rose
like gnawing illicit drops
on the upper lip of a virgin

Satish Verma

17 October, 2009

NAILED

eyes will chew the words
i will not see all day along, do you hear
my thoughts in the icicles of flames, my bones
jutting out of knuckles,
i will go to memory lane once again:

where the stale smell of yellow pages
throws up invisible thighs groping for support
climbing in vain,
half moon floating on lake of tears
in fire of dark night –

drenched, he was escaping without legs
in white darkness of unaddressed pain,
sorrow of locked shame …..
victim of blisters on blasting flesh,
knees give way,

what was the date of surrender,
i was meditating on the ashes of serpents
beneath the ocean of protests in voyage
of solitude, as your lips quiver
in resilience of benign submission

Satish Verma

16 October, 2009

RED AND WHITE

blemish of the needle in eye spreads:
do you still see the moon in the hills,
outstripping the aura of midnight?

resilient, waiting for a renaissance, for
a finger on the lips in dark, to read the
symptoms, feeling floral in wilderness,

the reclining Buddha will speak now,
on stillbirth of a truth in valley of lies,
telling them the god was sleeping

in sorrows of world, the spider looks like a
man’s face, moving with large belly on the
dried corpses of hapless ants, the art of

dying, without pain, when the plane was
diving, splitting into two, unconscious of
pins and butterballs, in the mouth of mantis

Satish Verma

15 October, 2009

A LIFELONG JOURNEY

On the night when vessel
was empty
grackle did not sing.

For the sake of honey,
smelling a dead city, after
the rape of a daughter.

A black buck jumps on the
queen of roses, stoned after
the death of a green house.

A python had wrapped around
the child on bed,
come, save the red crying moon.

A soft drizzle wets the eyes.
I can see only stars -
disturbed by the winds.

Satish Verma

14 October, 2009

TERROR TRAIL

Shedding the wholeness of negation
you arrive: fear was sweeping the floor
when smoke screen of love was hung on
blue morning, you groped for a hidden
coin, lost in the woods of mania. Distinguishing
a chaste word, without thought, ejected in a
traffic of terror, you want to join a primitive
tribe where a motherless fawn will harvest the milk
from the breasts of a women.

Talking of a global sorrow into the green
eyes of a snake, an awareness breaks, sucks
you inside the hole of a wronged motherhood,
the anthology of big nails on the walls of
understanding, where the traditional colors
throw up the wasted bodies, making you think
tall, and you were running in a dark tunnel
climbing and falling to attend the funerals,
of moon gazing children.

Satish Verma

13 October, 2009

BREAKING FROM PAST

Fighting with his ghosts,
intimate dirt,
disseminating pain
he was going home.

Finding a panic room
in pectorals, for numbness of toes,
lifting the door of burden
in dying vision,

his father comes in daylight
of old age, climbing the stairs
of bones, swaying
like an ash tree in frost.

One counts the annual rings of
old trunks, depicting
mighty happenings, black and white
green summers of choked life,

tasting one’s own decline, filling the
cups of rosemary, a child learns to speak
thatched words of wasted birth in
tune with younger years of grief.

Satish Verma

12 October, 2009

ANOTHER LOVE

Give me a moment of pause
in this eerie lull,
I do not want to call it a day.

The blind fist had provoked the shrine,
before the lips started demanding
the dazzling kiss of a knife,

pure cut-out neck of high volted
embrace of a tall pole, black and white
like moon-struck anchor.

The strip search for tear-salt
under the unripe breast of dying flame.
Like a trembling peacock attended by hawks.

Not the comfort of street stone
heals the cleft of forehead, split open
by a shower of dancing missiles.

Satish Verma

11 October, 2009

BLEEDING DAY

Bilobed ginkgo resolves the conflict
of soul and body on the right side of truth,
laid out on a table visited by desolation;
here comes the crash of bodies.

You stand up against the end of beginning
to lock eyes with destiny, answer obliquely
to raw questions about the baking in plastic
cauldrons, when heat was rising in blue veins.

Engulfed in fumes of muscular words, resonant
with agitation of black banners at the door;
who will stop the sea of whispering veils
defying the shower of bullets coming from windows.

They were out in black night, impoverished,
burning inside, in grass green mud, covering
the ornate faces. Folks dissipating
on blunt shades, your sun outraged.

Six steps to reach the house, you take
six hours. It was naked and desperate aggression.

Satish Verma

10 October, 2009

* VOICELESS

Crisp and tight, a parallel voice
of black stars talks to sky, protesting
the presence of ultimate outsider, when
everybody was a partner of collective
guilt in nightscape.

What was the center of fight in elite
members? The unhindered ego or claim
of bland crumbs of authority? The innocents
so many, on streets, surrounding a red
smudge, liberty, watching her personification, who
sleeps here!

Whom it burns? As the blood spurts
from the chest of a white stone.




• On the death of Neda Agha Soltan in Tehran on 20st June 09

Satish Verma

09 October, 2009

WOUNDED PRIDE

Generation grips,
I am the street
in dysphoria.

You run, shout, the arc
bleeds, you become your enemy
that kills the alphabets

A statue was hung
upside down
to eject the violence from plastic lips.

Blood stained sidewalk
throws a challenge to send
the skins of martys.

The taste of endometrium confronts
a fortune of calories in pink
for an unconscious hood.

And the language of golden teeth
hides the backdoor flight
of a fallen god.

Satish Verma

08 October, 2009

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 Verm

06 October, 2009

MATCHMAKERS

non compos mentis
my monologue,
non-believer will say, it was
insult of salt,
under the bark, white ants were climbing, boring into sap,

kneeling,
at war with yourself,
disinheriting the loud blood,
you want to thwart the murky ariel
to scour the black mass
at belly,

the dynasty ends in obscene hugs,
grievers want to be forgiven
for the sake of kneading truth
on merciless palms:
it kills the headache, the eyes, the vistas
of bleeding expansion

Satish Verma

NIGHTMARE

sometime I watch
the fear held aloft by you, possessed,
you try to protect yourself from you in vain,

very thirsty, white
hydrangeas on your lips tremble, exhaust
their need for clouds in blue eyes, pale

fountain gives up
tumult of sand grains for high skilled
white god of snow who could not prevent

a land slide all morning,
my bones still do not agree for a
marrow withdrawl for an emptied leukaemia

hidebound, rapacious
in the chaste tree, stuck by night grab,
the bright stars fall one by one on ice

Satish Verma

05 October, 2009

MY GOD

it was widening,
the rift, between waves and ocean:
the resilience of depth was going
to challenge the height of winds

on the beach
i stand against the sun
empowered to face a solar eclipse
unreal, something was sinister in the

shape of the house,
the child walks whole life to find
a door, the shock of the rape of a
moon in a prayer room, i drown

in birth of vision,
the hump of knives, in throats and
speech, you want freedom to pack the
dead body of floral tribute of words

Satish Verma

04 October, 2009

FAITHFUL

Basking in brothels of mighty corridors,
who was seeking an annulment
of lemon grass for enquiring into the
genesis of mutilation?

It was a terrifying situation for
a smell, drifting on the tarrif of
polity when fingers were busy
to dig in the flesh of victims.

Cleric wants to dictate the rhyme
of poetry distilled from anger.
Hundreds of thousands of monarchs were flying
in defence of dementia. The age was awry of death.

Close your eyes and listen to the sound
of melting. Somebody is drawing the green blood.
Dismembered, I swagger barefoot
on the steps of black clouds to take revenge.

Satish Verma

03 October, 2009

WHAT YOU SAID

Sperms spilled on thighs
When moon was hung over trees
To engage reverberations,

Contesting erratic moods
Outside echoes
Stitching white milk into black tears,

It was not for the deliverance
From pain of separation
And drink the eyes:

The waves died in immensity
Somewhere a dolphin dips in mind
To pick up the music

Of fences, separating ethos
And gossips of terrified oceans
Searching the sunken ship.

Satish Verma

02 October, 2009

PIRACY

Otherworldly, tactile retraction
of rainbows,
from the eyes of believers.

Detachment of restless mind
at twilight, pot starts
boiling.

Sundowning, a paranoia
takes over, you suffer a childhood
near the pyre.

Thing is not a thing
exclusive of an extremist,
something burns inside me also.

The age of a tulip
moves backward; I, untethered,
float thoughtless in speech.

Satish Verma

01 October, 2009

RIVAL ENTREATIES

climbing on the umblical hill
ahead of the contours,
a denier
alters the chemistry of hate in negative space;
fauna of the earth springs black stones,
man made, on the glistening sex of
lotuses, a forgetfulness ensures
the conceptual withdrawl of the red bull;
hand in hand a sea walks towards the tender beach
to dazzle the hidden sun,

light was inside his body, but he was still
groping for the sleeping lips of a virgin,
into her broken promises; the debris throws up
the severed limbs to negate the will
to live, words must betray a step down, maintaing
a clueless trauma, there was fearlessness,
but no dignity, you have drawn a horizontal
line hugging the boundaries of truth
and lies, I recall buddha to smile in the
eyes of death

Satish Verma

30 September, 2009

MUTE DESIRE

Come Naja, come:
from the scented tree
and spread out your hood.
I will pull you down on my lips
One day.

Classical porn, Neanderthal.
In your stark nakedness I wanted an asylum.
A place guiltless, hands blackened, moony face,
Nothing to hide, except the fame
Of a fear.

Can I breathe in a cosmos? with integrity?
The interviews are corrupt, the dales stun,
The peace perverted, destroying the white birds.
O browning sun!
Wait till the moon rises.

The daily war is very raw
You burn your fingers
for purity.

Satish Verma

29 September, 2009

GOLDEN END

All I wanted was to arrive from the absence
of me, through the sluice of scars; life was
never the same again. Some inner birth took place;
awakening of sorrow for the attempts to take on adversary.

Pure disquiet, I shed myself, fly in grains.
Truth scares, stalks on the hot dusty road;
blinds the pinnacle, gives a call, needles in
eyes, a cult blooms in the rubble of fallen roofs.

The self betrays, does not reach the door,
within grief the sky blames the senses of space,
the flying bird sprays blue sparks of silence,
a cadaver collects the fire of neglect.

A spoken body loses the arithmatic of
stubborn cleft in the faith, pebbles on the beach,
each one for a fallen man, kissing a snake.
The memorial has golden letters on black kill.

Satish Verma

28 September, 2009

A LANTERN GUIDES

Cereus was in bloom in nightwashed
desert, sand was cool, it tipped off
the contour drain, a river sent its compliments.

If the death was at home, like an
estranged lover, will you open the door
in dusky stripes of morning?

Rubber was burning in afternoon rain.
An alert was sounded in curious lanes;
the shadow was lengthening its stay!


Standing on the burnt-out hull, I count
the shouts of the fathers on artifical limbs.
Bits of violence have broken the sea.

The seedless fruits descend on the glistening
coffin. A city walks with me without end.
There were roses, roses all the way.

Satish Verma

27 September, 2009

BURNING IN

No anchors. I was not seeking
a blind spot
in shadows of the wall, standing

on a hot, glistening, obsidian,
wearing only death-gloves
of pink body, the caked fronds of a fossil-name,

inviting the rain to wet the brown
grass as tall as the fallen pride
of a coiled accomplishment of a tiger,

the lips nearest to the fangs of
cobra, still nonchalant about the Murphy’s Law;
mute belief of a blueberry

shedding the grey ash of pollen
from the virgin flowers of doom,
from dream to dream,

when the shifting of night starts
at ground red, a white shirt climbs on
a tank to challenge the turret.

Satish Verma

26 September, 2009

IN SLEEP

A cult of sound without lips
was growing. The veil had staked its claim.
Staying myself I thought I will become
you; there would be a lured kill!

Moaning inside, a wave has ruffled
the sea. Serpent of moon quakes the shore.
Death was worthy of a kiss. A gull
flies away with glassy wings.

Rediscovering a beehive, honey of the
immaculate queen, between the breasts lies
a rival, I do not drag out the rainbow, I
have lost the will to trap the blue-fish.

We are distancing. A saddest tree drops
the seed in abyss, blackened, somebody
buries it inside a wall. The stones have
no option, up to neck the opacity runs.

Satish Verma

25 September, 2009

RETURN ON D-DAY

Why deceptive retrieve
in a wheelchair
for the fallen?

Was it not a sheer
wrong message
of a space anxiety?

The aboriginal name
was dead in a traffic. What
a choice to breathe its

last in a city of buried
monuments? Vision of inner
city affiliates,

taking questions for
the first time. You
become only a body after the death.

A white rose waits
for a blue sea. The black moon
hovers around the old man.

Satish Verma

24 September, 2009

UNASKING

Timeless,
the eyes and fractured wisdom,
the two of us, extremely prudent, suffering
the dislocation of vigilance against wrinkled sin,
I am on my own today
disconnected to

the unearthly rehearsal
of breaking the cycle of carbon assimilation
in the veins of white lies, of crude bombs,
moonbathing we were colloiding in void
of consciousness and scattered verses
in scriptures remained unsearched;

the brutal hierarchy of chromosomes,
loud and merciless, in the birth of new settlements,
huge ovens for cremations, collecting the golden
teeth from the ashes, celebrating the
return of blood and death, me,
blessing the unborn poem.

Satish Verma

23 September, 2009

STYES

It was a searing moment in grueling
heat of your flesh, the racist attack had come
to surface, the blue eyes,

edible gold, in nights
the pink veil of the moon,
I will cut my wrist to pour out the pure vermillion;

a huge umbrella of hot kisses
dissolving the contaminated beads
of musk, like fever;

the smoke rolls down the hills
of collective guilt,
an anonymous warning;

the frozen voice opens
like a black tulip on baby ice,
down under goes the sun.

Satish Verma

22 September, 2009

CONSUMPTION

The peace has a random price;
buried by sea of volition in knee deep puddles of
saline mud, being in being, after the crash,
to keep dissent alive.

Tell me, how did you go in arc light
in the middle of death, plunged in icy delights
of bloody waters? Prevailing withdrawl
spills the counts in endless moments,

of permanence and deceit, a face was
present at one time in two canvases;
the despondency was victorious in kelp,
of arboreal moon, night drips orally.

When the future comes in nesting birds,
I will search the eggs of cuckoo, before
I know you again; the venus-fly trap for hidden
kiss will open the honey glands.

Satish Verma

21 September, 2009

CRACKED SUMMER

not enough
howls of tormented birth
under a homeless roof, arresting the light,
a bleed from the pungent breast,
you lost the marriage with marigold,

to be grave purple eyed, missils killing
the shrieks, i let a paperweight
sit on the vessels and stop a free run of black
blood from nipples: dawn, it was far
away, the goddess inhailing earth’s ice

Satish Verma

20 September, 2009

DESCENDING

i make ready myself for an insult
and chest pain, keeping unshorn hair like nettles
on contours, to take unknown turns for restoring
the clouds on moon-blue hills, spreading the water colors
on trees; someone inside the shrine was making
turbulence: yellow room has the footprints of
a naked fakir, after the apocalypse, who walked eyes closed
on the burning ghats, his rags are now worshipped,
the later years found the darkness
glowing in the furnace of propped up body
by roses, roses all the way, he tells the
hanging man, how tall were the poles, with song

Satish Verma

19 September, 2009

STRANGE ECHOES

a kiss
on lips, returns with a blunt style,
in perfumed demeanor!

i did not hear
with absolute eyes, a captive
in chained feet, for self-defence;


all the shades of red
were walking on ocean,
a black skull glides:

the night fills in pores-
the gale, kills the black bucks,
poachers were on run!

in telling, the wizard
entices, you will never know
full toll of civil war:

he turns down a gift of speech;
words and whistles were surreal echoes
and I see a sword like nose

Satish Verma

18 September, 2009

ODE TO LONELINESS

that has been, was so raven
that you were hugging vanity
for the deportation of death
as a living;

fake predicates of a genius
like words falling as bucketfuls
of lies,

back to back coffer dams
collapsing, submerging

seers’ sarcophagi,

and the annual rings were becoming
deeper, mossed in misery,
his book of moon blackened,

goodbye, the dark unsinkable,
I am going to be reborn
in the abyss of my own sorrow

Satish Verma

17 September, 2009

WAIT

do not go the orphean way,
he thinks, friends meet as strangers
on road, was the absolute absence able

to find an air hole? the era of truth
dawns too late; calls the windswept
moon as a witness,

the shuddering will distill,
like purple fears from the sieve
of panic and crumbs of blue will fall,

concordia finds a new meaning of
falsehood, stoops, i would say, for
a megacreation,

the baby was found on a garbage
dump in the maddening silence
of protests, the vegans are not going too far,

powerless like a cadaver you do not
want to open the eyes from
a bandaged face

Satish Verma