31 July, 2013


I trace the path of murder, reclaiming
the blood stains
on grass. Becoming a stranger
in my own land.

Stranger? Yes.
Lead name missing.
Always wanted

less than enough.

I bare my chest
scrawling a blue butterfly trying to
unwrap the colour.

Satish Verma

30 July, 2013


Blaze. Awakens
me. Again it was snow
on the black lamppost.

me when the moon dies.
Day starts bleeding.

Voice rested.
The little yollow bird has
left for new home.

Satish Verma

29 July, 2013


After decapitation, it was
and half-bread.
We had prepared ourselves for epilation.

A war for milky sap
starts for an empty chair.
You are asked to abandon
your field and go for
a hate profile.

The gated religion now
scars the high searing, wayward
fronds of untangeled age
of absent truths and
faithful lies.

I will go again to
find the answer in a similar
darkness to stand
my unconditioned faith
to stumilate the unflowing river.

Satish Verma

28 July, 2013


Where was love
in a dewdrop and rose
when your lips went dry.

The salt now speaks
of vacant eyes of a
covered nude.

Untitled my song. I
leave at your steps
for a waterfall.

Satish Verma

27 July, 2013


Come down gingerly.
The deep snow is melting.
Will wait at pass.

It was a toxic
snub unintentional.
Growing poppies.

The thinker thinks not;
in the poem of terror,
the blood will spill.

Satish Verma

26 July, 2013

Straight Talk

Was it a mirage of innocence
in the age of push ups of a
violent surrealism?
I was wary of the repeat
acid horrors. They come back
again and again.

I want to get an abili by
sitting between the sunset
and moonrise. The wounds-
refuse to heal up and I
will not lament the disfigurement
of a verse by scars.

I want to say I like you yet
I will not be able to tell-
for want of a book
which remained incomplete within
its mask and pronounced words
as soft as feathers.

Satish Verma

25 July, 2013


Flirting will broken bread
I taste a bitter truth.
I am entering into a stupor
from head to toe. The
intimate torture has begun.

Trying to locate the
dirt path back to
home. The bird watching
has come to an end.

The meaningless ailing
now bleeds from dark
orifices. I return back
your globe.

The river has changed
its course. It does not flow
by my home. I am planting
forget - me - not.

Satish Verma

24 July, 2013


Flirting will broken bread
I taste a bitter truth.
I am entering into a stupor
from head to toe. The
intimate torture has begun.

Trying to locate the
dirt path back to
home. The bird watching
has come to an end.

The meaningless ailing
now bleeds from dark
orifices. I return back
your globe.

The river has changed
its course. It does not flow
by my home. I am planting
forget - me - not.

Satish Verma

22 July, 2013


A downy clay near
fingertips. I ascend light
to meet darkness.

An ambush memory.
Remember your name?
No, I don't know me.

Gambler raises
the stakes to win his dirt
from golden nails.

Satish Verma

21 July, 2013


Ah, the baby clouds
rappled down the moon
squeezing hands-

mourning for grass
when the snow fell all night
burying the graves

of the hunters, who
climbed the rains during
dry spell of the hot sun.

Satish Verma

20 July, 2013


Trapped necklace:
after a kiss of bee
to find the hive.

Honey spills from the
urns. I wet my moons in night.
Wind snatches a sun.

Let's go back to bricks
for the moral blindness of
king without crown.

Satish Verma

19 July, 2013


Eyes take flight
away from sleep, from words
to talk to moon.

Midnight dilemma
when a midriff blooms with
cactus dahlia.

Picking up the scent,
jasmine will unfurl a
new bouquet.

Satish Verma

18 July, 2013


Death wil wash
the feet of truth.
Grass, where the blood spilled
has gone for sale.

A pink eye stalks
the night in dark
humility. You know
moon was rising.

A melting pot rips
apart the ghost.
Besottled I celebrate
the arrival of flames.

Thirsty, you throw the
ice cubes on the ramp.
Butterflies are going to
visit the altar.

Satish Verma

17 July, 2013


Were very hot, trembling thighs
like in frying pan, you sizzled
looking around for ladders.

Then you crashed on the charged
net like a mosquito, exploding
in white flame- tip, tip-top.

Pungent smoke rises, of
smoldering flesh. I was afraid
of drums, the fierce sounds.

Your song has been left behind.
Stolen piece. Love has become a
terror asking for ransom.
Living fossil. Taking it all, you did't
deserve the garbage. The string
of wasted years.

Satish Verma

16 July, 2013


Pushed by troubled waters
on the periphery; dream
interrupted, you start
coloring your nails differently.

A white moon was not that
white any more. You grow
overnight gray, becoming
older by decades.

Gravel was going for a coup.
Stones had upturned
the river.
Brutus, were you impeccable?

I don't want to travel
back to dark memories,
of a raccoon drowning
a little poor thing.

Satish Verma

15 July, 2013


Delta. I was the fourth child.
The delta connection of a
triangular love. No blues.
Only cottony belly.

My copper coins. I want to save
them for making talismans.
My arms are entwined like
a python around the neck of a medusa.

That hairy push of a trident.
The stinging tentacles. The
polyp was enlarging. Now the
snake was shedding the skin.

Statesmen. They change their colour
like chamaeleon. Prehensile
tail trailing behind the witch-
craft of black goddess.

Satish Verma

14 July, 2013


Was it the end of senseless
of the rainbow,
crawling towards the destruction?

Pathography hurts when
you look at the sea for a
bipolar thrust. There was
an absent father.

You cannot touch the wreath,
it burns in your hands. Where
will you place it when
it was raining words?

Ah, an accidental incest now
will spawn the half-siblings
in an archipelago of opinions.
There was no birthday celebrations.

Satish Verma

13 July, 2013


The day was killed
diving in the books.
A lamb was dyed to
please the race.

You gambled for water
huddled in eyes.
I wanted to scatter the pearls
on cheeks.

Drenched in gasoline you
tried to send the message.
A flame was ready to
light the dark.

Margarine had the lustre
but was not a gold.
A red hot iron will
tell you the same.

Satish Verma

11 July, 2013


The dark energy
brings a little death, everytime
you throw a lighted torch at -

the hunched mass of a wounded
pride when you were wanting
a wayout from within in vain.

A neurotic dilemma to
arrive or not to arrive
for the final act of -

kicking the bucket. Silence
one day will speak to me
in whispers for a beautiful
elegy of a charred remains
of a renegade god who always
wanted a silver rain.

Satish Verma

10 July, 2013

Across The Silence

You failed me.
I have started learning
from myself.

The man-made world,
a culture of stinginess-
overtakes the ism.

Confronting the hawks -
you scramble over
the wet shoulders of wounded sex.

In hiding
your own exit rope;
are you thinking to end the solitary confinement?

I will wait
for the suffering to end -
and aurora to rise.

Satish Verma

09 July, 2013


After being robbed
you want to hide your
poverty, like sex.
Someone is going to flaunt
the kisses of moon.

The sinking of twin islands
in lake begins. Claspers
were poised to hold on the tree-
house. The privacy was
threatened. Nobody will conceive tonight.

The erotica wins, temple fails.
A lone wolf smells the wind,
invades the obscene closet of
a god to find locusts
riding on each other devouring
one's own.

Satish Verma

08 July, 2013


Will you read
the snow on the grass knitting
the big eyebrows

of moon at night
which will never know hidden
hands of a wetland?

The tears implant
green circles on cheek.
Spring was coming back.

Satish Verma

07 July, 2013


Digging the fossil
foot. Satisfied less
I want my old coin.

The early call was
for preacher, who will not
get up by funeral.

Books are ugly.
Will write magnolia.
The yellow waxy monk.

Satish Verma

06 July, 2013

Violence Unkind

When besieged by
shooting, the word kills word.
Meaningless show.

The day will unfold
bringing blood on street.
I will pray for night.

Sectarian push
decimates the forest
of daisies.

Satish Verma

05 July, 2013


Let the commerce begin
in moral crimes.
You had been selling the death, daily.

The lichens,
had invaded the tongues.
Speech was blurred and words were gray.

Someone comes knocking
at the door in night. When I
opened, it was moon.

The potter will not fail you
once, writes a blood poem
for the drifters.

In the beginning there
was turbulence in the sea.
Now the boat sails on fins.

Satish Verma

03 July, 2013


I am not stopping by.
Day was crumbling
in flares of core issues.

I have set my thoughts
between the cries of victims.
Hearing the shots, invoke

the fire ritual, silencing
the guns. My journey starts
to bury the evil, but fails.

Again hear the foot steps
of unknown. Understand my
smallness, loneliness, my doubts.

Move ahead of truth, step
into a black hole and
drag out the light.

Satish Verma 

02 July, 2013


The thrill of watching,
descent of reddened sun.
flustered moon!

Half-bitten bread.
The moon was chasing the
Dark. Captivating!

Rituals begin
to anoint the poem
written by naked man.

Satish Verma

01 July, 2013


The dawn, arrives.
Like fawn, under window.
Get a silk rope.

Across the sky, ravens-
bragging in shrill voice,
of early rise.

Sun chops the sea
in sharp blows, distributing-
light for everybody.

Satish Verma