30 July, 2012


Slashing the surged monarchy 
of celibates 
stoking the fire of wounds, 

the turret locks on to a target 
taking off the gloves. 
The mountain was rising. 

A sheet of the floating ice 
disturbs the ecology 
of heart. I place my candle in storm. 

The missils had failed. 
Only the words were flying from 
bare lips for entreaties. 

Oversexed like a shoe-flower 
O, mad enemy 
I am pouring out the red sea.

Satish Verma

25 July, 2012


Just a sip on verge, 
man was eating a mountain, 
forgetting carnations. 

A peacock sits on the belly 
of a torchbearer 
for a credible crime. 

One Buddha fails today. 
Turns around 
and goes back to his princess. 

Give me blood money 
to kill myself 
for sitting under a bo tree. 

I do not seek any bliss, do not need any home. 
The stoker will not stop hurling the insults.

Satish Verma

22 July, 2012

Cannot Say

On a hollow path 
you had failed 
carrying the loaves of bread 
in biting cold of politics 
scaring the lips. 

I was standing near 
the dawn in praise of dark. 
The sharks were coming. 

Here goes the marble floor 
for drowning in black blood. 
The fire between the palaces 
was eating the golden thighs. 

I think flowers have gone 
to drink from the little ponds 
near the escaped souls 
of scribes and guns.

Satish Verma

20 July, 2012


not yet pubescence: 
a cloud says, moon was 
crazy, treading on a 
forbidden lake of frozen tears. 

Breaking fast unto death 
for releasing the doves 
in sky of hymns. 

The gametes were weary. 
Procreation will wait. 
Let the dark particles 
start a ceremony of scoops 
to carry the impatient twister 
inside me, 

to pull off the yokes and 
set the flames free.

Satish Verma


This was the pain through the window 
in humility. 
Cannot catch a break in rambling 
carrying the dead crown of 
a tryant. 

The blindness makes 
a presence. 
People are bidding farewell 
to the bloody son. 

I want to come in death 
now, after thousand years, 
living in violence 
of man. 

The untouchable moon 
was laughing.

Satish Verma

19 July, 2012


Incredible moon 
tips the hallucinating tree. 
Lake propels the waves to limbs 
and strips to bank. 

I wear my lightning 
and enter into a process 
outside body. The night 
betrays and goes back to sun. 

There is a frame of truth to be claimed 
in a black sac, who slashed 
his neck for the deity 
of widening freedom. 

Turn right, where the trembling 
nation stands to pick up the fallen heroes. 
I am going to write an epitaph 
with my blood on the wind chimes.

Satish Verma

18 July, 2012


The tears were walking along with 
laughter. My face was roasted. 
The fish-men were moving 
the political wheels. 

As the chaos was widening, 
the humming birds started to depart. 
And the seeds were catching fire 
from anonymous snipers. 

The candle march at night 
gleamed the question marks. 
The dirt, the smudges, the motifs 
and viscera, all were becoming one. 

And the grass stinks with the 
fallen monarchy, after dismantling 
the author of funerals. Give me 
a final kiss of death for baring life.

Satish Verma

16 July, 2012


The fleshless hands 
lift the obscene violence of man 
for life after. 

The vacant eyes 
will search for the keys 
to open the sea 

of blood, 
faltering on umbrella of 
imitation rain of democracy. 

Age reaches the wolf’s den 
I am sitting under the clouds. 
Bullets are pouring.

Satish Verma

14 July, 2012


You had dug in deep 
to undo the garden. 
Civil war started 
between the yawning wounds. 

Whose side was time: 
in burning well of oil? 
The autocracy will bleed 
the earth till death. 

An island in the canal 
holds the ship of man. 
For whom flows the river 
in smouldering woods of hate? 

Each matter, antimatter, 
circles around the world, 
trembles under the eyelids 
and asks for a name.

Satish Verma

13 July, 2012

Serial Blasts

Crushing the tangerines, 
escalating the dissent 
of lean eyes 
for a slaughter in the trench. 

Unadorned, the little soft 
hole, I watch 
display of hair, 
teeth and shoes. 

Who had conceived 
the invasion? 
Time clock, you need 
a prosthesis to move. 

Dehumanize the littered 
street. This has become the empire 
of death. No crying would 
be allowed under the feet.

Satish Verma

12 July, 2012

Making History

Pull out the pellets 
from my chest, I had fallen 
in a brutal crackdown. 
A black moon was taking revenge. 

You were staring 
straight in the eyes of death. 
The biker, 
has lost the charisma. 

The apples 
were never so sweet. 
Bursting out of the battle lines 
ready to shoot. 

A black hole 
was calling. To take 
a final jump of art 
into believing?

Satish Verma

10 July, 2012

Lame Duck

A lame duck re-emerges 
from water of life, 
after paying for night of clouds. 

The sex determines 
the economy of a nation and democracy 
writes the future of a man. 

Who was bankrupt 
in poor country of rich people? 
You were the boss of a pavement. 

The helplessness of a poetic justice 
was writ large on your face. 
A dog was throwing the bone for the poor. 

A fierce battle was raging 
between the sun and the moon. 
The stars have eloped with the winds.

Satish Verma

09 July, 2012

Swan Song

The toppled gravestones, 
I still count the heads. 
I will go with your swan song, 
the bond erupts. 

You were always sitting under the 
bougainvillea, waiting for the swallow. 
The next door summer arrives; 
Why did you say, it was biting cold? 

The door shuts on the moon. 
It was obviously very dark, 
and I was searching the space 
between ’yes’ and ‘no’.

Satish Verma

07 July, 2012


Dual fall of the brass. 
From the bine, 
from the bliss of flower strength. 
An apparition 
of infiniteness of agony. 
Becoming one with failures. 

It tends to stay 
and enters the forbidden city 
of endless gods.Me beseeching, imploring 
to remain poor of any treasure. 
The mysterious pain 
a trap cannot catch. 

Oh, pass on a cloud 
my eyes want to rain.

Satish Verma

05 July, 2012


That fugitive dream 
of shrinkage: 
a room in a room 
a door in a door. 
You were hurting the house affairs 
at midnight. 

The space accident 
starts dismanteling the life. 
Selective pain 
comes again. 
You start distancing from story touch, 
long vision. 

The canary brings down 
the roof. Somebody was leaving. 
The eyes will search another sky, 
another tree. 
In a light slumber 
another fall from the perch.

Satish Verma

03 July, 2012


Let us talk today 
of crazed times, 
so that the trade of 
ethical falls runs. 

When dawn breaks 
on the stunned silence 
of moon, I start unfolding 
the black sun. 

Ah, a poetry wound 
aches my world, knee deep 
in blue veins, to find 
the lost river of tears. 

Give me a song, a word 
a phrase, to grow old.

Satish Verma

01 July, 2012


Winter topples the 
of muddled tongue. 

The bottle 
breaks the stasis 
of eye. 

I cede the smile 
of history. 
Somebody has left the home. 

I become my enemy 
in dark 
for the acid taste of truth. 

The moon 
had the malignant stain. 
My shirt has become dirty. 

O god, 
I never believed in you 
nor in your ugly world!

Satish Verma