29 April, 2013


After the plumes,
legs are blown off.
Your body smells of migration
and length of
wasted strings.

The questions will
never return.
Buried deep in crescent heart.
Do you have the authentic
information about the murder
of the crested tit?

The woodlands
will go without a song.
I will live in rotation
with biological grief of earth
and emotional blackmail
of moon.

Satish Verma

28 April, 2013

Earth's Intelligence

Do not open this dirt file of
the suspended time. It reverberates
in me while standing
on the edge of a precipice.

Are you hungry of a desert
light in dark. The birds are
going to follow the sun carrying
the moon on their wings.

A dream creater stands on
a golden rock to retrieve
the archaic relic of a Desinovan
who hit the grave without shoes.

The greed ultimately takes over
the silent death.

Satish Verma

27 April, 2013

Blind Encounter

Round dahlias.
Your eyes have started speaking.
Let there be a dialogue-

between two lovers-
under the glare of sun-
once again, initiating a tropical storm.

A tendril moves in swings
to catch a mate.

The body finally surrenders
to a flame. A yellow cinder
starts a white fire.

A cindrella finally walks
out of ashes to find a pen
leafing the pain in colors.

Satish Verma

26 April, 2013


For a good road map you need
whistling words and biting
flies of porn videos.

You go overboard when you
see a virgin falling from
podium of a hundred smiles.

Sitting in skin only who wants
a tattoo of a butterfly, when
the book goes for a sale?

Gettysburg water for the joints.
Do you need some of it when
the economy has pored off the poems?

A courtesan becomes the bride
of the city. The grooms were many
but no body wants to sit on a mare.

Satish Verma

25 April, 2013

Blue Heights

There was an unease in the flock
of lovebirds. The lynx was on
calling again every night.

An execution on a wheel
was a better choice
than to die without speed of kill.

Cannibalism becomes alive
when you start eating live-
words without shedding a dropp of blood.

What was the urgency to invite
Ginsberg on paper? The ink
was still superstitious.

It was invisible.
The destruction of an impregnable.
When the moon explodes, where will you go?

Satish Verma

24 April, 2013


Press the panic -
for beautiful inside.

There was a hundred
moons dialogue
in the cage.

Fear was walking
in dark corners.
There was no iron gate.

Only golden bars,
pushing you back
from touch, feel and unstitching.

Let the world find a
neck broken falcon,

I am taking a fight
to be born again
as a white bird.

Satish Verma

23 April, 2013

My Revenge

No thought was enough
from a stunning fall.
I am leaving the paradise.

In urn the past moves like
a weightless peony. I am
touching your lips.

The drowned wand. Can you
pick up the future from the time's
lake? I am a fish now.

Tiny beads on shut eyes. Are
you watching my burning house?
I am still inside.

His blindness or my grace;
when you would like to kiss?
The pricks were on the floor.

Satish Verma

22 April, 2013

It Was Enough

Yawning of dawn.
I scribble a note for night
to come again.

And I try to write a triolet
in memory of moon;
who forgot to say goodbye.

A pigeon flutters in my chest
for a beautiful bride,
who was fond of pecans.

I have not much to show
except my trembling hands
which could not light the -

lamp in dark for once, to
read the face of eternity.

Satish Verma

21 April, 2013

Collective Death

I am talking to me
in a muffled tone.
Unhinged, cutting myself.

Murder was shaping. Cheating
oneself. What was the arguement
to concede the religion -

of a no-god? The actuality
of present time? Black magic
was turning human beings into stones.

Amid unrest someone claims
the obscenity of truth.
The torture becomes fearless.

Paired needless stitch the unhealing
wounds. I have left the home
to find the black-hole.

Satish Verma

20 April, 2013


Identity ravaged in snow dust;
now I am writing my name
in water.

It was not my time,
not yours. We play like
saddened kids today -

under wounds of stars.
I beseech the sky to wash
the tainted roses.

Where do I go now, to find
the stolen kisses of moon -
after I was sick of hot sun.

Take away all the blue letters
from my sleeves. I have
dropped the links.

Satish Verma

19 April, 2013


Give me a home for sparrows.
An outcry was rising,
why do you go from aphids to moon.

Midnight and a howling.
I am scared of hungry wolves
roaming in alleys.

Two small mounds and a
split code. There was left nothing
in alphabetical order.

Dry aquarium. Why did the fish
leave for the veins of glass? Lights
were out in search of a dark corner.

The corpse was unbuttoned,
why do you wash your food before eating?

Satish Verma

18 April, 2013

Invisible Stings

With dolls on your side
of a troubled life; you
go on rocks to receive
an unspoken answer.

The sounds, the echo.
Your father walks in -
and lays down the brick
on your papers.

Were you prepared to save
yourself from the onslaughts
of ladders. The snakes were
ready to bring you down.

Let the cityscape rise on-
the tall spires and snow
fall on the bones of birds
for a salutation.

Satish Verma

17 April, 2013

Tremulous Light

In my sky your blackbird
a lamp without a light
making a nest of moon
where the fireflies will meet.

A mirror breaks my dream
I paint my graveyard with blood
of a rose which felled a tattoo
from the morning dew.

They make love under a -

cloud in shimmering dark
of vanishing youth; One day someone
will claim the fallen vial.

Satish Verma

15 April, 2013

Talking Spirit

Water has its own mind.
Becomes a rival
in the crack of a rock.

If the moon cries;
it becomes dew
on the slender grass.

The maiden love,
you will find it on
bed at night.

And when the priest
becomes featureless
it goes in the eyes of a god.

When death smiles,
it fills the glass
you drink it like elixir.

Satish Verma

14 April, 2013

Sinking Boat

Now comes the visual
separation after the fall of an
enemy. The urbanite
crumble has begun.

The needles in eyes are hurting
the milk. Do you play
a Chinese game?
The depressive psychosis-

will throw the shackles around
you. Honey, you have
a trace of lead inside. I want
a silk covering on the arrows.

Dip a child on street
and you will create a skipper.

Satish Verma

13 April, 2013

Inside The Drizzle

Tainted blood
cruising in wrong legs.
You stomp on the golden leaves
of the fallen tree -
who will not go with the

A pregnant pause.
The storm was raging at the corner.
Put down the light,
put down the light;
hold on the road signs.

There is a reverse calm
inverse silence
between eyes and heart!

Satish Verma

12 April, 2013

Judgement And Curse

A city dies inside me
leaves uncharted
human bite marks.

A stinging match starts
between explicit statements
I move to keep an appointment -

with an angry moon -
who was incontrovertible by
sending the moon rocks at -

climategate. Here goes the
feedback to climbing mountaineers
who will not find any peak -

in the realm of award winning
shoes thrown at the
emperor of empty citadel.

Satish Verma

11 April, 2013

The Black Argument

Driving the moment
you swoop on the clock
expanding the grief of
blue mind.

You said,
I want to know the name
of spilled blood on the dirt road
to freedom of thoughts. The noun
was more repugnant than the verb.
The crowd was becoming

You cannot raise your children
by feeding them with your hands
and making them sleep in your bed.
Where were the books? the scraps
and waste?

You could have identified the code
of forgotten gods.

Satish Verma

10 April, 2013


Dismantling the vista
for a missing link.
A moon rises behind the ruins.

I see only the water
and a sunken ship in shallow bed.
The wings have carried away the wind.

A beautiful sin to become
polyamorist worshipping many goddesses
dying everyday.

The blood draws a line
around the chaste bed, where
half-brothers will kill each other.

I tie the knot with hanging
fountain of virtual image.
There will be no consummation tonight.

Satish Verma

09 April, 2013

Rising Curtain

Sun tears into
clouds. Between oaks
climbs a rainbow.

Drenched, I scoop
the eyes in a trance
whispering rain.

Widening moon
like a talisman in -
a shriveled hand.

Satish Verma

08 April, 2013


Under the frame
lurking from a sun point
I will track the death
on mountain.

Unafraid, a wild animal
had killed the lambs
in a row, resting in homestead.
The ladders were squealing.

Dizzily you realize, that-
you don't belong to yourself.
After eating fire all along,
the birds had migrated; -

beneath the skin; now pigments
were changing the color. You
become selfish. Start removing
your name from the martyr's list.

Satish Verma

07 April, 2013

The Untitled Erotica

Plurality of the sin
slids across the sludge
of cheating -
on the cohabitation of virtue.

Encountering myself in mirror,
under the spell of repetition?
Discovering yourself -
can you predict your end?

Inheriting the long night -
I cannot act for me. The flesh
seeks the curved breast of
unspoken grief. I wouldn't become ruthless -

to smell the gift of parting kiss,
tossing the landscape aside.

Satish Verma

06 April, 2013

Anger Within

A gem cutter
takes a pause
and finds the hate of a locked house.

The words scream
and hurl a propensity for violence
becoming an aphorism.

A pithy precipitation
was delayed. The seeds in desert
will not be able to catch the light.

I am still lonely
making peace with rain of arrows
coming from nowhere.

Satish Verma

05 April, 2013

Empty mind

Do you know the pain
of somebody on the road,
freezing alone? In Asperger syndrome?

You do not want to talk
about the forest of words; -
though a small window opens
to the hazy mountain in dense fog.

The shadow lengthens,
when you stand against the sun.
a stupid thing, being a
proud owner of an evening moon.

Where does the small island
of narration lead you? A
temple of nobody's god?
I am frightened now.

Satish Verma

04 April, 2013


The dew on your -
lashes. Did the moon kiss
you in sleep?

In dream, you -
walk towards a tall tree,
near the lake.

Full moon will ask -
what was your death wish.
It were only you.

Satish Verma

03 April, 2013


The dead sea
and the naked soul.
You are not worthy
of forgiveness. The smell
of sweaty soles
tells it all.

You dust the window
to read the green moon
and turn off the forest
of dark faces.

It is critical time
to collect the body
after falling from gray
humor of beliefs.

Satish Verma

01 April, 2013


Blue poppies were poised
to meet the regret of thighs,
mother of sins.

No flesh now covers the eyes.
A candle burns a green
thumb. A silver bowl breaks,

spilling the milk of nudes. Liars will tell
the story of honour killing.
We were tired of listening

to ravens taking a flight.
No one had seen the corpse.
Only black bones will tell the truth.

Have you seen the holocaust?
It was inside my pen! my write!

Satish Verma