31 March, 2013


The night calling. I start
the search for survivors.
A loquacious day shuns
the clouds.

A black hole. I move in circles.
A star was going down in an
abyss. To think, was a taboo subject.
A naivete' towards perceiving.

You can keep your eyes open
and not discern any frame.
A hand will not find another
hand in neighbourhood.

There was less sexism without
the chair. The paradox was no -
body wanted to discuss the
markers of malignancy.

The house was up for the sale
deleted from the manuscript.

Satish Verma

29 March, 2013

New Alphabet

Can your words find the color
and smell of a manslaughter
in an unholy stampede?

Head bowed, the handcuffed activism
walks on the street. Now pops
up the moon from forficated clouds.

A decoy was sitting on a tree
with a stunning gaze
to watch the lewd behavior ―

of a mirror engaged with a
self-portrait. Alphabetically
the breast milk spills ―

before you arrive without
mouth. A celebration
starts today for an unborn.

28 March, 2013


Can you see the smoke
coming from
the brick kiln?

The finches
were jumping into firepit
one by one.

To enlarge―
the space between groping
and assault.

There was no need
to start an uproar
about pungent―

black forest of silences.
A face is suspended in midair.
That simply was not there.

Satish Verma

27 March, 2013


Bending the forked-stick to find
underground water ―
and immortality of thirst.

Lips were fragile. There were
no dew drops on the upper lip.
It tasted like a frozen moon.

Clouds had sucked the childhood.
No one picks up the fireflies
from dark bushes.

Tasered by stings, the moonlight
hangs by the window.
I watch you undressing.

After the blizzard, a rocking chair
waits. Hypothermia. The musical
return of the mute did not take place.

Satish Verma

26 March, 2013


All night November,
I was searching the vulnerable
lips after loosing you.

Now fingerless hands
were moving the sun-dial
away from light.

The shroud was heavy,
I would not breathe.
Give me a blue moon before dawn.

You cannot engage in
sudden withdrawl. I will
come back for a kiss.

The paper that leaves a wound,
I will not sign for the bread.
My hands had stopped trembling.

Satish Verma

25 March, 2013


A midnight craft
dumps the moon
on a heap of deceits.
I ask my sap to turn back for truism.

It was a question of spacing
between the bodies
in scapegoats;
coming for slaughter.

A scale measures the depth
of defeats. The hands
were busy in mending the
walls of psychiatric ward.

Have you ever tasted a white
poison, sweet in taste?
When you grow old, you will
look like your father.

The name which was absent
in calendar, was found everywhere.

Satish Verma

24 March, 2013

Hurting Dive

As if pruning was not enough.
After severance from the peak,
the ladder was becoming
aloof and murky.

Acid burn on the day
of breaking confidentiality.
An imperfect mirror was
wiping out the cloud, all night.

You are going to take on the
starless sky. A moon was
left out in the stillness of black sheen.
You are now poking at the globes.

Give me a pen to lift the
remorse. I was desperate to become
human. Death was looking at me
with great amusement.

Satish Verma

23 March, 2013


Without assent
I open your book
to find your crazy god on mat.

Love was a blind bird
in a state of agony.
Learning to fly.

Moon would not reply
through aslant door.
Something was between us.

Here, now a sordid tale
breaks the taboo. They
were investing on skin.

It was a cheap wine
in a golden chalice,
for a lipless mouth.

Satish Verma

22 March, 2013


You wanted to understand
the tenor of wet, heavy lids ―
that had emigrated from
deep oceanic eyes.

You believed―it will go on
for ever. Roused in peace.
I will listen to the voice of river
lapping at the shores of pain.

Cocoon was lying still, will
not open to us. I was ready
to receive the death at door.
But it was a stripteaser.

The lovers will meet in the
wilderness, ride the lioness
and black berries will go to
moon for the payment of wages.

Satish Verma

20 March, 2013


It laps up the solitude.
A flame hits the stonewall
of silence.

A dust cloud, covers
the finale of conflict.
Nobody wins the race.

You arrogate to yourself
the skill to accept the heat of argument.
Can you reach the end of thought?

Ravishing black
picks up the fallen moon.
Somebody will go green.

If I could walk on
the lake? The faithless will
wreck the pledge.

Satish Verma

19 March, 2013


In slap at your icarian path
the call was not taken
from inside me.

Anxiety in a troupe of clouds
was rising. A deep dissent
within winds surfaces after sunset.

On the footpath comes a noun
in the land of abuses,
taking a vow of silence.

The moon becomes green
in a blue sky to get
the blessings of surging frost.

Knew nothing about the
future flooding of apples.
Falling from the tree.

Satish Verma

18 March, 2013


Coming near the incarnation of an
unknown, sunflower seeds were cracking.

Trickling down the cleavage of a tormentor
reaching near the edge of poetry.

I ask you to clamp my name, the
gash on the book was bleeding.

Was it discretion of night to decorate
a battered and abused body of a doll?

Naked you cry on the shoulder of the moon.
This was my prophecy, this is my fate.

Satish Verma

17 March, 2013


A whisperer with its begging bowl
wants a moon in alms.

A candle burns in panic.
The serpent was sitting in a prayer.

The golden teeth will find the apples
leafless, pleading for a fall.

Stoking the fire, you step on a ghost.
It was a fake, I scream.

Do not tamper the ruins of the tower.
They are going to find the death masks.

Satish Verma

16 March, 2013


The occult was scrounging
in stringent way
to resurrect the past.

No answer. There will never be
an answer. Where questions stand
an answer was not there.

Acquittal in setting sun. Endless
love making had passed
with the moon. We will not-

recreate the bronzed body.
Night, curse and a tale of
purple, pink horse, accepting

a libation for the penile
god. A savior was present
to watch the ceremony of surrender.

The serpent was ready to bite.

Satish Verma

15 March, 2013


Blurring of words
takes place. Lead the light, O Sun;
non-path travelers are playing
an exotic game
in defiance and in delirium
of schizo-affective mind.

Fruits were fudging the flowers.
The parents. Walking alone,
watching the abasement of a
young pilgrim seeking the belief
of walls. The moon wears a death-cap.
It was the return of silky climax.

Do not move. Do not speak. Listen
to voice of stillness. World is becoming
proxy-keeper. The surrogates
were releasing the facts.

Satish Verma

14 March, 2013


Belly crawl after a dance.
Carnivores were ready
to jump on flesh.

That underground beauty
still believes in
battle of flowers -

skirting the hills. I am
at loss of words,
to describe the burial -

of a strongman. Misreading
a child god, he still
posits a human clause.

Darkness challenges the rival.
Death for a believer
of a spiteful cult.

Into the hole, a snake hides.
It is miracle, that
you are still reciting.

Satish Verma

13 March, 2013


I intuited. 
Something had crept into
my room in dark,
and slept on my bed
devastating me.
It was a moonbeam.

There was no animal on the loose.
Activism had empowered the gender base.
One long nightmare started
between innovation and miracle.
Unwritten, I was loth
to understand you.

The abstract sky was
ravishing the moon. I become
visibly upset. Ask you to shut
the door and start reading me.
I had become an epic
of water.

Satish Verma

12 March, 2013


I take you in my arms. O moon.
Crazed. You have become a muse
of a dervish. I hear the noises. Inside.
Beyond perception. I could have swapped
with you. My rage. My skin. My solitary inside.
Becoming a dagger into your heart jumping.
Never falling you said. The evergreens. I
have again failed.The crops. Standing, on the river.
Not crossing the bridge. To meet the spring.
In meadows. May be. Unsaying. Will
it help to know? The words standing behind
the lips? Will you catch the words?
Floating in air, when I am gone with
the clouds. You will keep on repeating I
was here, in your eyes, in your tears.
Moving away in opposite direction will
you look back when dawn arrives?
I will hold you and kiss on mouth.

Satish Verma

11 March, 2013


You could feel it.
The fear in that pristine howl
writhing in throat. Something was
wrong with the sunflowers. A genital
cutting had brought the snowdusting
on mutilated emotions.

A premonition warns. We are shining
on wrong side, under dictates of religion.
The cult will take care of mouth. You
will celebrate the breaking up of man.
The bone between the lips.

I am collecting the dirty threads of
loyalty to stitch the amnesia. They were ready to
applause the demise of moon. No more
sheen on the trees, lake and hills.
I am hauling up the skeletion of the republic.

Satish Verma

08 March, 2013


Anatomy of fear,
is revealed before me.
Like a red flower opens.
A shadowless figure, deathly-white
holds my hand.

You watch the wounded earth
athirst, fumbling to catch the
greens. Vomited blood when her womb
was upturned to release the metal.

Civet will leave the trail on convicted
grass. The iron grip of greedy
windows. The red ant hills were
spewing white eggs. Now rains
were coming.

Unkempt my house waits for
the ending of truth. What I mean
you will not know. The law always finds
a black veil to cover the face.

Satish Verma

07 March, 2013


Decoding the self-portrait
in false exposure from me
to light. The wounds hide
the smell of alienation.

The infinite was never
created, as biological father.
Crestfallen wallflowers went to protest.

If you could find a god on the road.
you must ask for the reason of
astigmatic vision.

There was an uncanny feeling;
somebody was watching you. Afraid
not to see; time was making room for you.

Answer becomes a question mark.
Don't shut the door.
Death will walk with you.

Satish Verma

06 March, 2013


You go for a daily ritual
to water a passion tree;
for greasy palms of petals of
lewd figures.

Always had a goddess
in young days,
now you are trying to find an
erogenous zone in searing heat.

It ia not raining. The impact of
instant romanticism. The past
throws the virtue in vain. Terror
had been benevolent.

The beasts and flowers, endless
friendship of strippers. The holes
are widening in the sky asking
for the blasts to go for ever.

Satish Verma

05 March, 2013


It was a broken lamp,
the orphean tragedy.
You were found sexless
in a naked bowl.

Making love on hay
the moon crashed/on moonstones.
Memory of shells tossed on bed
of roses/was still alive.

The divine leaf falls/opens the
scars of plums. Immoral,
a white tiger pounces on a
rimless scream.

Covered with crocus you break
the brown hills. Through touch
I meet you in dark. My green hands
hold you in folded palms like a firefly.

Satish Verma

04 March, 2013


Black livers?
Are you really desperate
after a vision? Miasma

A disheveled sky was
calculating. Tide was turning
back carrying the
tremors of shores.

Was that true, you faith
thinning? I see myself
getting ready for slanting moon
eating seeds of death.

It tears through
the veils of abstract. Are you
looking back at paralyzed
sun who has swallowed a stabile?

Satish Verma

03 March, 2013


That fleeting incandescence
was branded witch
in grotto of a cloud.
For the first time I saw
your face in water.

You said this is manic
depression talking to flowers
and seeing a bizarre
apparition in dark blue sky.

What was the thing called
arrival? Every moment
a truth dies before
your eyes.

Between laughter and tears
I touch your eyes. Is that real?
And your brown ankles
walking on white snow.

I am soliciting a bloodstained
floor for a dance.

Satish Verma

02 March, 2013


Walking with death
talking poetica.
Living without walls
and firing squad.

While new culture was
drowning on steps of
dots and bass voices.
The blood on hands.

Sometimes you are going
nowhere in a pathless
city. Back to back setting
ablaze bazaar of black gods.

Between the veils lies
the trauma of man. I
step out from the underside of
hymns. Cannot sleep in temple.

Satish Verma

01 March, 2013


In the valley of death
one more guest arrives.
By my sleep, there is a soul search.

Take off the lid from silence.
Unlach the door.
The wounded sun was coming.

Be my grief to wash the eyes.
Unclench my fist.
I want to write the name of fallen god.

Inhale the sulphur and
draw the moon.
Night was coming to take revenge.

An obituary will glorify
the asylum.
An alien will enter the skin.

Satish Verma