31 May, 2009


Wrapped in explosives he was unready
for a bruise. A dive at a mound of torso
to unearth the archives of areolae.

Apnoea will come for arbitration
in clenched insinuation:
pull nipples to open the window of mind.

On the forehead a smear of vermilion
brings glare like a third eye.
Real fish in the green pond of envy.

Desiccation of spine excites the rhetoric
blurs the sea of swans. A lone tree
explodes into a spring, not just leaves of old flame.

Silver moon recognizes the battered hill.
A white wolf was cruising on the road
for appleblossoms.

Satish Verma

30 May, 2009


Like an alligator tending her eggs
on tongue, death moves the life
on strength of charisma, overreaches

for requiem and then distributes the raw
moments in subterfuge, we play the game
to cheat each other without shame.

A red carpet is laid on white floor
of the wax house, making gold from
sun rays. The moon bleeds internally.

The rivals come face to face walking
on the ashes of ancestors, ungrieving for the
loss of sperms. Fertility will come in petri dishes

without the name of father. I am here,
nobody, ready to unanswer any question.
My stains are becoming darker every day.

Satish Verma

29 May, 2009


Velvet thorns
become signature
of my pain and joy.

Body paints the naked earth
blue. Eyes in hot desert
search red poles and blue moon.

Emotional strife:
dripping accidents with sum flowers,
extremely talkative.

Then the words litter
on white paper. Very sad,
you leave nothing between the waits.

Dawn to dusk, pleasing the gods.
An owl on each branch
disregarding the stars.

Satish Verma

28 May, 2009

Strange thoughts give words

Strange thoughts give words
a pain. A mountain unfolds
a tunnel.He who carries a vase of ashes
must enter the gate to plot a path

for history.Ideas have turned into stones.
A violence erupts in long winter night.
Nobody understands the bird of time
who has lost the flight.

The bones learn the absence of house
in the forest of men. You realize the anointment
of unlearning. A gaudiest opulence

comes slowly in huts. The body becomes
blue in gentle fall of skimmed silence.
A prayer has a pernicious omen.

Satish Verma

27 May, 2009


I could not take it, the fear.
Transient flesh
vibrant in a sunken ship.

On a coral island
deconstruction of a fallen window.
Jumping on million skins.

The level of violence was rising.
Rebuttal will not convey
the truth, the reality.

A thin line of lips
skates on the ice of power.
In a palm grove

I was held by music of death.
My arms unwrapped
around the portrait of life.

White swellings on the knuckles
betray the gliding priest,
who denies the god.

Satish Verma

26 May, 2009


Dignity of knife in hope or fright
cuts the outer edge of desire.Huddled
anxiety oversees the fringe bites

of comforts. The child you abandoned
on road becomes a tree I nurtured.
A leafy town grows in the calyx of capricious

impermanence. Calisthenics permeates the
vibrations in foxgloves.Dragonflies become
vulnerable in feckless shadows of eyes. The

lithe body metastasizes into a mausoleum,
you adore. A tiger mauls a gift of bed.
Your whispers start hissing for intrusion.

A pilgrim of negation raises a non-belief,
creates a stimulus to bestow an endless
pain in summation of all night.

Satish Verma

25 May, 2009


Fractious smokescreen
between celestial reflection
and contempt

floats on a shaken rug.
You cannot stand still

The indictment stinks
for the impoverished vicitims
who make history through to the bones.

Grappling after theft,
interstitial existence falls like glass pieces
nowhere, black and bleeding.

A robust chorus rises against resistance
of strips. The ocean rides on snails.
Hills threaten to go partisan ways.

The division had started the perennial conflict.
A pebble is thrown in the pond.
A racist moon becomes a living doll.

Satish Verma

24 May, 2009


Sun was setting over the cacti and critiques.
A cryptogram said, dignity first without
any damage to faithful aloneness. Protection
was not sacrifice, you have to plummet from a cliff.

A plaque has no mortality. The pressing of
lips places pain ahead of hope. The smiles
have a coercive expedience. I become voiceless
in a delirium of hooves.Sex green death opens

a door. Fear of feathers surprises, would
not measure the sky. Bound by winds the giant
trees search for the soil. Any grass can send

the butterflies. The bald piston throws the
blood on the spikes. Spiders are unwinding
by kisses. Beds are empty.

Satish Verma


You left behind touchstones
when I was inventing another zero.
Black and white, sobering transparency
was reclaiming the mandate of dust.

Barefoot lambs were clamouring for ethics
in forbidden land. The sun shrinks the
clouds to distribute equally, the landscape in
a vibrant consolidation. The small mouths

start resembling you. Something
unimaginable was happening in a diaspora
of maniacs. Interactive and dauntless,

I put my neck on guillotine, unfevered,
for the beheading of truth, in times
of false hopes and unturned stones.

Satish Verma

22 May, 2009


Instead of pain sublime in body of death
and bracing a hailstorm of bullets
you embrace a white phosphorus
to burn for whole life, as a reminder of

collective suicide. Like my lost children
I am collecting the words to weave a phrase
against the destiny for capturing this moment.
The vast crowd will decide the fate of frigid winter –

to upstage the sun. Barren trees overhear
the wailing winds. Lake of death will outlast
the mirage of inward suffering. Chariot of
Apollo vaults to inconceivable height.

Satish Verma

21 May, 2009


Honeymoon with history was over.
A two headed snake was sitting on a coin
of leather in grass. Blue tongued

jewel was going to serve the enormity
of destination. Disquietingly, decomposed
relics were coming out of the rubble. Coil

of thoughts becomes a vector of violence.
Cobwebs of increased blood supply to
malignant battle. You die in your own

vision. The awns of oblivion pierce the
wings of dumbfounding words. Offering
shows the fear unlimited. Prices

crash in a meltdown. Poverty holds you
in doorway. Feathers understand the boundary.
A flock of sheep was butchered by a wild beast.

Satish Verma

20 May, 2009


A marble calm under the shaky gaze
was parsing the human pain. I would
lift the calculated grief from folded earth.

You feel badly bruised and racial war
becomes anathema. Past the age eyesight dwindles,
cannot identify the faces of dead.

O my God! Bizarred bloated eyes filled
with blood were groping for the fallen walls.
Who had dug the garden with grenades?

A theme hunger separates the hearts. When
desert was the bed for daughters and sons,
the fathers were shaking with hate.

The shine wears off the love. A different world
under the lids. Miracle does not happen.
We were searching for the doors.

Satish Verma

19 May, 2009


A fragile pistillum sways to conceal
the sperms in pestle. Unilaterally fired salvos
were increasing. After the dig, bodies in the
debris were popping up daily. There
was no truce for brothers in arms. Struggling
to hold on the humanism, anger was rising
from the white paper.

A sense of lost is weaponized. There is
a mix of solemnity and hurt. Pacemaker was becoming
a slave, will not respect cadence. Obscurity
must take refuge. The golden lined clouds
were enduring the sun.A howitzer fires at moon.
It was time to find the anchor, shoving aside
the mortgage of life.

Satish Verma

18 May, 2009


A terror of alikeness looms
like stricken birds, incenerated in split seconds.
You smell the burning flesh in an air blitz.
Nearing endgame a conceptual hate
is jettisioned in sky. You start collecting
the fragments of life.

Words start jumping. You refuse to accept
more than the want. And yet a finite
listening was absent. And the secret kennel
in the dead child fails to sprout. The toys
and dreams lie unattended on birthday
of the nation. A monogamous judge ascends
to heaven.

Any durable peace on the way? Unruffled
you are still in freezing water. The boat
is half-submerged and tears are burning
the deck. No wrinkles. The fish nod
their fins for the final plunge.

Satish Verma

17 May, 2009


Seizing the fire after hidden sorrow
predicted the synchronized slaughter of
the river, bodies were being ditched
secretly. The sparkle of waves was murderous.

Blue wings of tall dangers dodged
between war and hatred. The golden
face of a child was smeared with blood.
You carry a moth to be burned on a flame.

The black rose hangs in balance,
against the red cross. A sea of white ants
was entering into a microchip to eat the
months of prayer. Nation’s crimes were

pinned for troops to turn the gold
into dust. Catch my hand if you grieve
for the lost mother carrying the child
of century for burial.

Satish Verma

16 May, 2009


Lovers of death were on prowl:
nothing was finished.Smart words
were bouncing back. Quotes by the fire
had stripped down the carnage. More
bombs in courtyard and hope was confronting
death. Few branded names were causing
rift in the ranks and I must forget
about the waterboarding too.

After the outrage you would not trust
them to govern themselves. The towns were
still sleeping accustomed to the knocks
on the doors. The water birds were not
coming this winter. Smoke and fire. Sound
and fury with flashbacks of flood of red streams.
I was tumbling down beyond challenge.
With message of menace they will do no wrong!

Satish Verma

15 May, 2009


Preparing jaggery from palm juice
the resistance is splashed on face
for the vision of peace. A pre-emptive

trapeze breaks the monotomy of transsexuals.
Intimes of peril the ancient conflict
becomes a broker to fire the night. A ball

of smoke betrays a human failure in
nostalgic days. The intense brown eyes
water with stark fear the incoming

rockets. This war will not end. A conduit
of fierce emotions always identifies the man
with personal faith. No overt blood or sweat

figures it out. Torrents of bullets have
no inclination to halt the wolves. A city
cries. The siren screams again!

Satish Verma

14 May, 2009


Joined by the funeral, we sit down,
under the blue sky, fire watching, sequentialling
the processions. Ultimately one by one they come,
to dust, hands turned down. After close of the rainbow
there is an explosion and a transition
censored by stone age. They flee from the shrapnels
to swathe in bioluminence of death. The penury
makes a fanciest atrocity.

A pockmarked moon stands there to listen
the scandalized whispers of crulest legends
in century’s hopelessness, guilt’s bleeding.
You never chained the voice of booms. A god
mourns in fading light.

Satish Verma

13 May, 2009


It clings to you, like a liquid rock,
burns your skin. You get a chemosignal.
Tethered on a rope your clenched iron fist
remains dysfunctional. From the elite enclave
red smoke billows like a jinni unleashed
from the bottle.

A stray mortar sends olfactory fumes.
The land concludes a twist, becomes
unforgiving.The debris was a cluttered, goaded
inheritance. When it was not there I eat
the guns. Mission accomplished of death and
destruction, you start a prayer near an incapacitated tank.

Today, like everyday the war failed us.
Mother and son, father and daughter sleep in death’s embrace.

Satish Verma

12 May, 2009


It burrows deeper in the covert
recess of pain, shunning violence of light:
the epicenter of Armageddon,
giving collective death to providence
in a proxy war.

The collasal gossip rests on the river of ashes,
deflects the incredible starved children –
wind blown without geysers, dripping in sweat,
licking the salt lake of damnation.
Cutthroats will come shortly.

Centrifuges are churning uranium in underground
tunnels.Myopia was increasing. In
another garrison germ warfare was getting a shot.
Choked off I still carried the holistic style.
A blockade was sending the sleepers.

Inheritance of lean arms but brave wants,
bares it all.

Satish Verma

11 May, 2009


On the street between the impeachment
and castle a divine release was being
enacted engaging the durable peace in seething winter.
A somber black cloud of smoke was
slowly reclaiming the sun.

A disgraced militant was pounding his chest
for not killing priceless bees
who were initializing the flowers of Aden. The
death was laid out in a row before the child
was born. Dead prophets were watching from the eyes of dolls.

Satish Verma

10 May, 2009


A blue moon was crabbing at night
in the sea of stars. Yuu could hear
the outcry of herons suddenly.
It was mayhem. Heads will now roll for defiant

attitude. The creepers were trapped
in the impatient blind-catchers.Unforgettable
waiting for the flamed silence was from
night till dawn. The sun will peep discreetly.

The breasted curve of a cloud hoists
a golden thrust in multitude of wings. Day
arrives with a bang riding on bruises. A blast
fills the obtuse mother whose child was dead at the gate.

Sucked slowely, the crumbled walls
put up the silver of noon in background. Someone
covers the body with white mattress. Another
number is added on the page.

Satish Verma

09 May, 2009


This overwhelming emptiness:
something to present allegorical, figuratively,
which is not here. Vultures were coming back.
A stimulating dialogue must start

to release the hostages of unknown fears.
The menacing fog was towering over statements.
Everything was turning into coal and the smoke
was streaming from the oasis.

Where we were on the impounded road
unstuck after ethnic cleansing?
The jealous blood was coloring the greed
on the cold shoulders of priested bluff.

The beast loses the domination, bread
and milk of drifting poor. In glass house the
clouds were entering. The dissecting table
was ready to nail the sea of hate.

Satish Verma

08 May, 2009


Tell me about the bluetoothed man,
of his stark naked truth, in toe
for a brief pause. The toll was mounting.
The tallest fraud of chilling facts. The city of
cold murders of hermaphrodite. The sex of
meanest level to become rich in seduction of wooly legs.
The wasps were hovering home. The stings
of famous wives.

Predicament of deficit bombs. Motivated artillary.
It is incursion of sterling thieving, of sisyphean
pain. The plaques were becoming honorable.
The spoon bills landing on dry lake.

Bracing the embattled knees, I dismantle my
life to start again from living the
death of beautiful.

Satish Verma

07 May, 2009


In search of peace
the free hand was inflicting casualities.
The kids were buried like insects in a rubble.

Step by step in speculation
the streets were livid with rustic murals
of splintered blood on walls.

The foxgloves had lobbed rockets
on tall heads. Beleaguered
eyes nailed to fire.

I am watching you my art,
to witness the agony of man.
Burn, burn my cupped hands with snatched words.

Satish Verma

06 May, 2009


He did not want anything
after the sex and death of a protagonist.
Rebuffed and sliced through the body,
the onus was left on toxic mix.

He died in deprivation, in intensity
of hunger and fluidity of thirst.
The quartet of grenades stretched too far
the indemnity of shell shocked apostles.

A clan lost the sense of hearing.
A mystic odyssey of massacre, raising
the doubt of gifts in heaven. The starchy
statements and commands scattering.

Satish Verma

05 May, 2009


Wrigglers dripped again
from hidden heights. The red river changed
its course furiously. The wave climbers
abseiled from a lethal boat

to wipe out the beach memory. Timeline
sneaked to put the blood signature
of a cult on the glass shards.

A biosynthesis starts for tadpoles
destroying the infrastructure of the species.
Yolk sacs were emply. New borns
were turning into snakes.

Enemy swept across the land. Deers
were being released for the panthers.
The boundary was only meant for the victims.
The metamorphosis was complete.

Satish Verma

04 May, 2009


A missile in the home,
what they have done?
You are on flames.

A red smoke rises
from bottomless hole.
Memory slumps.

A glow in pain washed
cells, calls the mirror.
Instead, grave diggers arrive.

This was the manufactured truth
of the eternal kiss
of death. I stretch my arms

to feel the terror.
The walls start crying.
There was no roof.

Satish Verma

03 May, 2009


Standing on a hump,
a chilled remorselessness
of a shadow trauma climbs out of a sealed
grotto of infinity

like a vas deferens, spilling fiddled lies.
You grope for your identity in griping
acceptance. From the umbilical cord
the pink flesh brandishes a monster.

You forget the vowels in a solo monologue
in a tormented accent, muffled
in bleeding throat. Take my ears
for cosmetic therapy, which killed my hearing.

Between blindness and tidy rocks
I am walking discreetly to count the
digs of mysterious armless truths:
disappeared in the pages of history.

Satish Verma

02 May, 2009


Tonight sleep was not coming to me.
Tears had washed the splinters out of the bruised eyes.
It was becoming extremely hard to pulversize
the legacy, the tendrils of violence.
Wrapped in white shrouds the bodies were laid out
on the grass. The pearly sunlight was ready
to give anything for a name.

The pitted legs, the shattered bones,
black moles of the final darkness. Descending
on the battle ground, parched throats
licking up the dew from the mute bodies of ancestors.
I would eat death, shapeless, as blunt
questions, as medallions. Millions of years will be ready
to make out the fossils of time machines.

Are not the pinnacles of snow shining on the
mountains of silent hate? You keep the windows
open, so that the blasts does not shatter the glass.
When this calamity will end? The new born
babies are thrown out on heaps of garbage, bloody
rags of unhinged bloughs. A hunch-backed
god was tottering on the broken planks.

Satish Verma

01 May, 2009


For a desolatory trident
I was feeding my anger.
I could not do it, sell
myself for punitive lenses of my calculus.

A nymphalid arsenal.
The war was still going on
to strike in deep poctets, demolishing
nascent hope. Future will

ponder at the mascots. The grief
of rags and riches will continue
listening to eternal conflicts.
The wounds will develop whiskers.

Not for the opulent pain in the body:
we were crying for the glory of the man
which was disappearing fast,
under the whirling snow of broken stars.

Satish Verma