30 September, 2016


Perched on a tree high
a moon was talking long
to me.

A live-in partenership
was in vogue. We always
loved each other breasts apart.

The weather was changing.
A plane load of tears would
disappear without a trace.

From somewhere a benign
lump explodes, making night,
a brilliant dream of
sleeping sky.

The hare jumps on the moon,
to snatch away the ambulatory
age, browsing around the death.

Satish Verma

What Next

Between the swaying palms,
moon was moving
in armada.

Why did you come
late, to whisper, of the
explosive explicit?

But for a lone
cry, I would not
take you.

The jewels were mine.
You had stolen
from my waistband.

It substracts the
stings from my
hobbling gait.

Satish Verma

29 September, 2016

Waiting To Happen

Being you,
not the bee queen.
Volatile as it appears, would say
one day, I don't know you yet.

The estranged mogul
returns home, empty-

Don't tell me in
stark and straight words, one
needs clemency.

The flame had touched me.
A strange panorama, created
by the geometry of violence,
now hurts.

Speed and direction
liberates the path breaker.
Resonance of your voice rises,
reading the same poem
again and again.

Segmented icons would not sleep
on the same bed.

Satish Verma


When you take a false
lead, life will undo the seeds
and the cataracts freeze.

This is the story of
a butterfly, in disturbing amber
buried in snowfall.

Can your body take the imprints of flogging?
When you start sketching the polar ice
in the story of death, compounding
the mystry of
unleashing sea
of the fawn eyes, whose message
was sent in water?

Satish Verma

28 September, 2016

False Accusations

Every night you become
an insect, crawl into
the bed and chew the lips of unknown,
listening to the music
of flowing blood.

Outside the slogans―
tear at you. It was a wound
night, the words, untouching the space,
go― straight into the echos,
without any halo.

So where did you sink in
defiant orange of the sea,
while turning back from your designed
path? Another terrorist's sexism
was on play?

There were no barnacles, no
frog mimicry. I silent walk into
the arena to find the length of
the caravan.

Satish Verma


Becoming gold diggers,
the myths, without
ism and orthodoxy.

The creed will not observe.
I will say, I am the god
of ruins.I offer my inadequacies
to be punished.

The passions were rising.
You kill yourself to get the
space, the privacy.

Where the theme ends?
The religion has only absurd
quotations.You always involve the
Almighty- for any fall,
any bloodshed.

The tricks played by blessed
saints.You would always sleep in dark.
Eyes the faded gems.

Satish Verma

27 September, 2016

The Décor

Sexist barbs against
wooden breasts, street-smart.
I am something not, I am. A wall
of tears. Liquid nicotine, I will not declare
myself, creating a poem in different ways.

Waywarding, protégé digs the gullies―
becoming unfaithful to himself. The
hope, will it be extinguished? The
tall mud slide, a devastating statement
burying you, me, everyone.

A black beetle, collecting carcasses,
to feed the young. It is on the rise,
green sea. I cannot see myself bleed,
by the grasshoppers. It is like
committing suicide solo.

Satish Verma

Sense Of Betrayal

You will find one day,
water footprints, when
seismic events stop in eyes.

Don't you think a system
of mutual respect should―
be followed, before the
conception of a new rage.

Moons come and go.
You upturn the clock racing
the time to―
reach infinity.

Where the hundred stars
die daily, do you still
want to become a blue light
in the misty house―
of headstones?

Satish Verma

26 September, 2016

Existential Plight

Will not put any claim.
Neonate my poem
has gone gray.

Black days and white
nights.I will recall my
ghost and ask, O god-
do you exist anywhere?

A thread of pain, makes
a family of feet, climbing
in smoke.

Vulnerable to theft, my
thoughts divert me towards
cemetery, where I will
bury my sins.

You remained a question
for me on calender date.I
will hold on the time,
which has thrown me back.

Satish Verma

Trying To Breath

No final goodbye. No poetic
apology. No introduction
to a frightening joke of
a blue Buddha.

The neonates were blind.
There was no alternative, except
to wish them luck. I wanted
to leave my pangs with razor points.

Morality and hunted crimes.
It was a shadow boxing
in cryptobiosis. A bleak day
invites no more clouds.

You talk to the solitary moon.
The silence enters the reeds.
A whistling wakes up the night.
Death goes for a walk.

Satish Verma

25 September, 2016

It Is Absurd

After the sunset,
the moon comes out whitewashed.
An extremist flies a hawk.

The bird's meet was
disbanded. There was no
mandate to decide the fate
of eggs.

I cannot think. After the
arrest of an anarchist the cauldron
was left to boil.
The bones start melting.

Step out from the dark.
The blind men were protesting
in the street against the sun.

It is a small world.
You meet me again and again.

Satish Verma


In a pair, they were flying:
two monarch butterflies.
Hither, thither―
Fluttering in synchronized wings.

There was a Stark effect
in silhouette. The fever rises
in the bush. Someone streaks
in the street after moon
Let us stop the mouths―
to remain open. A missile flies
above your head aimed
for the burial ground.

A nascent star screams.
There was yellow blood
on your hands. You had
squeezed the young fruits.

Satish Verma

24 September, 2016

Adrenal Flowing

It was a basic instinct.
You wanted to become something-
on unstable legs, hijacking my dreams
for treason.

Like an amputee-
you were hobbling around
to find the door of gold
in the jungle of twists and breaches.

Only a fathom depth
you need to hide your cadaver
of past sins.

Scattering your seeds in vain
all-night, the dawn was away,
still waiting on the wings of tomorrow.

The mourners with their quivering
lips cannot sing an elegy.

Satish Verma

Loose Threads

Your thin white skin spreads
on the front. The blue
veins have become the strings,
annexing my peninsula.

You had said, it was a
bit of stretch, to cover the
lies of a fading sun,
for a delayed penitence.

Living water will bring clouds
to fill in the lakes of grief.
One day the lilies will grow―
meet in the air, for sombody's sake.

The black moon was still
raw. All the weeds had
become snakes. I start
hating this season of mating.

Satish Verma

23 September, 2016

Trembling Daffodils

The snow:
Pounding the earth, trees
the man.
Centuries of hunger repeat the
raven's walk on icefield.

The drum beats again.
The cold war tapping
at your doors. Missiles made
ready to fly.

The rhyme comes back to
weave the funeral song.
Blood curdles, as you step up
the agony.

The stings, the venoms,
the blue veins. The murderers
were ready to―
receive the gifts.

Satish Verma

Going Wastough

Less likely to be a truth,
let's celebrate the healing touch
of a hidden god.

It was an absolute
invasion, but I did't believe
in any war.

Timeless quest for the-
elixir of life and enigmatic
divinity.Answers were
always fragile.

I want none of your books.
In humbling pride I will
find my own solution.
Life was a question.

No birthdays.
Rolling thoughts- need
no sermons.

Satish Verma

22 September, 2016

Eyes In The Bowls

You become absent in
repose..I try to rein in the
subterfuge in stranger's eyes.
There was nothingness. A chestnut
tree was refusing to let go
the nuts.

The phantom fight begins between the
daffodils. The sun had given
the borders, step by step, to
different colors. Still the bloom
weeps for its blindness. I will
not unmake me. The faith―

this winter was bad. The
deathmarks were evident. We
wait for something to happen,
ready to unroll the schizophrenia.

Satish Verma


Bigotry, is that you with
the lost numbers?

Looking back, will not
light the road.

I could not haul myself
out, of the kitchen, of narrative.

Something makes me jittery,
counting my failures. You revert back
to the caravan.

After the love. The lines
burn and you set aside the goal―

of becoming free from writing off
the man.

Satish Verma

21 September, 2016

Some Stupidity

You collect
the crowd and it will
change the truth.

Have you seen it coming? The
The kiss of greed?

Are you going to climb the rope
in air?
A magic of collecting the coins
to become the richest man.

Irregular beats
will stop the band.
The vision falters and you let me go.

The burning bush
will take you.

Satish Verma

Deeply Upset

The dark borders
were shifting, rejecting
the inner voices.

The echoes bring apocalypse
with costs. I hear
the silent prayers.

de jure? I want
to letter the unknown fears
of the epilogue.

The whistling pain of the
words, brings
the blood flowers.

Aghast, at the cupidity,
of man, where shall
I start the charity?

Satish Verma

20 September, 2016

Death Was Growing

This was profanity.
A dead club moss resurrects,
when you sprinkle the water over
dried wrinkled leaves.

From darkness to light
you break the bowl of an angel
and the invisible spills out.

Brother in terror -
of mixed turbans.You smell
the burning flesh all around.

Speed of light from superflares
was not colossal, than the blast of man.
Look, it is still dark here..

Now climb the holy
hills, rising like the breasts
of weeping earth, to collect
the daisies for final call.

Satish Verma


You can legitimate
the loot. There will be no
spineless resistance.

The skull cap only covers
the baldness hiding
the keratinized skin.

The lust shines
like pearls on your upper lip.

Poking the rabbit
before it jumps, you will
remember the ducks have no ears.

Ah, the learned
professor, he has started
teaching the full lips.

Satish Verma

19 September, 2016

This Living Death

Oh, templed god, why did
you snare the palmer?

The importance of being
the autonomous? I am trying to
stay away from me to keep
a watch on you.

The itinerant sorcerer had
become a legate of gold trade.

The flesh is for sale, the
small mouth with big hunger.

A fledging of scar has become
a bleed. The synopsis was out.

I am going to ask some question
from the bo tree today.

Satish Verma


Let it go, do not touch it.
You had been negating the bare truth.
I was part of you
once at the shore of tragedy.
Life was treacherous
and I was free to laugh.

Come September and I will be chasing
the fireflies again.

How time takes revenge
from the innocent commitments?
You start returning to your roots
and I was still surfeiting
on the secret fidelity.

Where was the need to be tied down
to god? Nobody was honest to forsake
the fear of nameless nemesis.

The myth of rock still haunts.
Water still boils under the clay.
Petals fly in dark alleys
and I cannot find the door.

Satish Verma

18 September, 2016


The shades of dawn
under the waning moon
reflect on your face.

The lace trembles―
when you watch the Venus
disrobing in dark.

Confession made.
You wash your feet in
Milky Way.

Satish Verma

Not Prurient

Becoming fiercly personal
with no physical contact,
the crescent moon
ultimately occults the Venus.

The grazer now turns into
fugitive. Was not the knower,
was not the known.

No past, no future, you
move with your eyes down
to deny the assault, the flirtation.

Your silence was
unthinkable. I will bring home
the dead. Light is gone. The
slapper sleeps.

In emotional agony I
start prowling for the body.

Satish Verma

17 September, 2016

My Ignorance

What happens when
you stop thinking?
Reaching near the god
or becoming a stone?

It was not enough even,
when you go in coma.
A shrine of dazzling failures.

The animosity, the politics
of violence.I cannot remain
untouched.Wounds would
never heal.

All fever.I am not alive.
of the marvels of religion.
I ask you to go away.This
Friday another Christ will die.

Becoming whole.Was it
possible today amidst the
unbecoming of human beings?

Satish Verma


Pupil was on parole.
You abandon the inexhaustible
patience with increasing distance.
Everything was fading
when you look back.

The things, always return.
Like you did not carry a bundle
of postcards written
by your father, while emptying
the house.
His carved signature is still
printed in my brain.

Now my grand daughter saves
the e mails sent by me. The woes
of a pilgrim. A neutral passage
with no feel. Some day a glitch
will wipe out the treasure.

We have changed the costumes.
The inside has raw palisades.

Satish Verma

16 September, 2016

No Coming And Going

the mutability of homicide.
You were lost in dreams
stoking the protests of eyes.

What were the explicit
suggestive remarks?
A personality disorder for going back
to pyramids and searching the priest?

Embrace the death, who
says. The pavallion was empty.
Game was over and boys had
gone to dethrone the kissed thief.

The questions run, trailing
the path. What was the nature
of this thought, I say when
sky was infinite?

Satish Verma

15 September, 2016

In Moonscape

A streak of sin was
always there, when I looked
at you in brief encounters.

I would not kiss the
eyes of a viper.

The giver was insane.
A bane of togetherness.You
were getting pheromones all the time.

Parenting was difficult.
Now as the holy month starts.
You were always near the moon.

In golden sunset,
I will prepare my elegy.
The flames were always green.

With the relapse of grief,
drums sounded loud.

Satish Verma

The Claudication

Is raining. Since night.
You have no claim on
dry lips. Wry stance. The
city walks slowly. Wasted
faces. You want to kill
the words, the profanities.
Want to unwrap the knife.

I don't need any flowers.
Always making faces. Too
Many boats in the sea of eyes.
Rowing, arowing. I am
Afraid. The fast currents. And
then my shirt becomes stained.
Dirty words.

You reach the bottom. The
terrible depth. Digging up
my body. Even my hands
become shovels. Slowly
I erase my name on the sand.
The sea has divided us.

Satish Verma

14 September, 2016

Let's Decide

Less of charity
was needed, when you sleep
till dawn.

The spirit of the tree
comes down to
wake up the sage.

It spills the light
for a troubled window
cracked by hail.

A drenched house
of words
becomes pale, page by page.

I do not know
how to tell the story
of two bats which flew without wings.

Satish Verma

Aham Asmi, I Am I Am

Night melts into tears
day sums up the pain.
A fear stalks the flute,
and darkness falls on the drapes.
I was a lake
and I was the sun.

I held you on to my breast.
Give me your fangs
and give me your venom.
I was blue and I am the death.

Centuries of wounds
and million of scars.
Silence of sky
and lull in the clouds.
I am the fire
and I am the gale.

Satish Verma

12 September, 2016

Ink Fall

you raise your hand:
not to strike back,
but to salute the pain.

Weaving the aurora of stainless performance
of inevitable.

Not going to change my path.

Gazing through years,
the fog, the hurts.

You were flame-born
in strong winds.
Father of woods,
the hunger was very faithful.

Satish Verma

For Something

Genus Viola.
Which gender you want it
to belong?
Pansy was most effeminate.

The tender touch.
It reaches you inside. You
start trembling
like aspen, ready to fall.

Full breasted, a
crimson moon will spill
the buttermilk for
a rosarian.

It was hot, very hot
for the quivering pearls of pistons;
for merciless decapitation.

Satish Verma

11 September, 2016

Unmaking Me

I want to shake them off,
the weird thoughts,
like a swarm of bees,
buzzing, whining, aimed at nothing.
Want to write me off?

observe the hands of a watch,
looks like they are not moving.
Time stands still.
Waits for me to move.

An atavistic ache.Again I view the world.
Everybody is making a sound without bending.
With dreams dead, I step into emptiness,
barefoot, to feel the earth.

Not going to quit,
free to kill my ghost,
I move into sunlight.

Satish Verma

Brilliant Stroke

Unstable like a mercury
drop, when you hold
a pen, hiding your
icy thoughts.

Like an archer, ready
to abandon the bow, without
shooting at the target.

The bull's eye was a
blue rose, sitting in the dark
niche, afraid of light.

In synesthesia, of
nights assault, you fume
and sizzle, when the dew
drops hit you.

You will not give the name
of slayer, who killed you with a smile.

Satish Verma

10 September, 2016


Put a candle under
the rose bush.
I am going to draw blood
from the moon.

See my body has become
a boat and you are the sea.
I am an opus Dei
and you are my deity.

We mist and we rain
on our frailties. The drama
unfolds, when we grieve
for the butterflies.

Who was taller than
our sins? Like pixies
falling from the skies.

Satish Verma

This Was Cobra Night

O pathfinder,
you wanted to leave unsung.
One day I will track down your footmarks.

Last night I understood
the unholy drowning of the truth,
before the priests of innocent surrender.

Jealousy was the secret of
downfall.You can use the parenthesis now
to defend the corporate

Politics has become a
grammar to cheat the morphology
of gospels.

Do not go like naked truth
in the crowd.I wanted back
my eyebaths to see clearly.

The gap between the lips
was widening..

Satish Verma

09 September, 2016

Mammoth Blackness

You had left me reeling
under the bluebells,
like a trembling leaf, like wheels
in human conflict.

Trying to learn the democracy
of honeybees, like the
cohesiveness of fireants,

Handcuffed, staying in
solitary confinement, hitting at
the walls. Chipping away
the ungrateful.

The triage will leave me
unattended. The road...
do you think, it will be visible?

The stars will listen,
night will not.

Satish Verma

Death Mask

It was not the worth
of a cloud,
your garden, sitting
on the lake.

Refresh drops, in the
dry eyes of the rope, which was
wounding around your neck
like a snake.

You want to become
a blue god now, on
opioids. A living ruin, attracting
the tourists.

The terrible change,
we are dragging our dead body
under the shadow of
the toes.

Satish Verma

08 September, 2016

Not You, Not Me

You tell me in no
ambiguity to hold on the solitude.
Life was overrating the return
of a prodigal saint.

In wet distance
would you plant the seeds
of spiritual lockup?

Was it not two timing?
Riding on the waves
and starting roots music?

Shot in the back
of head, you wanted to die quickly
being sincere towards life.

it were you, which was, for
what it was not.

I am counting the tongues
of flames, licking
the acid burned virtues.

Satish Verma


I like to rage on with
flying snakes. The fog deepens.
You skid on the ice of the bridge
after the freezing rain. Infidelity
becomes the pick of the day. I
look at my Goldie, the pug,
sitting on the step. Waiting for me
like a meditating Buddha, eyes

Let me see your hands. Your
bones are becoming frail, twisted.
You cannot lift the book, hold
the pen. When you write, your hands
start trembling, as if you are
being watched, to write your last
will or ready to jump in the river.

Life had been very cruel.
When you said, you are a dervish,
the hyenas started laughing.

Satish Verma

07 September, 2016

The Road

He has been spoken off.

Sometimes I feel,
it is time to go.

Sun is preparing to depart.
After sometime moon will arrive.

You want to stop writing
and shut the book. Enough.
All things said, world will go on its way.

You change the clothes,
alter the sex,
exchange the god,
and refuse to die.

Nothing, but the dirty game survives.

Satish Verma


at the partition.
Left bleeding, the spider silk
had started weaving
the web.

I am trying to understand,
the sign language,
your tears.

You have to become
transparent.I have not
crossed the river yet.

Words not weapons
were needed to heal after
the cannibalism.

This world will
spare us in night.
Trajectory of moon
was changed.

Satish Verma

06 September, 2016


Cupping the water in hand,
you feel the nativity―
near the mute swans.

The silence of a bird, explodes
before it flies.
The hands flutter in excitement.

You take a cipher to
measure the infinity. Figures
become drones. One of the
suspect throws a bomb.

The quietness of sea, when
you start drinking the mist.
I will discover the beauty of death.

The words will reach,
when you would not listen.

Satish Verma


The cult moves in
circle. Stargazing
starts. You lie buried in
wet retreat. Eyes protruding

The veil sends a sweet death.

The death. Only you would
know, what was the conversation
between the repentant
and priest.

Superfluous. To beautify
the grimace. The lips―
always cheat.

A black cloud devours the moon.

Satish Verma

05 September, 2016

The Acid Test

When you stand still
in unbearable agony, the unquiet
dark starts settling
around me.

Why this crisscrossing of
ill-bred beliefs and credences?
Hacking of the circinate thoughts?
After the rolled up,
tip of pain lies in the center.

The dead leaves,
noises of the past-are gathering up
with ugly exhibits.

As origami, you fold it
and put it back
in ice box.There was no need
to decorate the death's crown.

Eyes half-shut
will not see the moon rise.

Satish Verma


Sitting in the sun
preparing the relic, for
future visitation.

The geranium bleeds
for the god particle, which
always eludes
the man.

A tiger would sleep
in my bed, jettisoning
the fish of your eyes.

The glass eye breaks,
enters the tomb of the orb
sheltering the darkness.

There was no clear answer―
from the mask, as if why
the tryst with stars failed.

Satish Verma

04 September, 2016

One Empty Boat

Nothing has ever happened
to me. I meet my road
daily in wilderness―

tasting salt.

The lake was frozen.
Surfing was not possible.
I was walking as if on cotton grass.

You think I have become a hope
in dark?

Satish Verma

Stopping The Moonlight

Call me avenger,
after the punch line had-
damaged the hidden ghost.

I want you to
let me go now after the sunset.
My odyssey has not ended.

You are not
what you were, once
upon a time.

The seven colors
are wearing the dark dresses.
Trading has become the hallmark
of light.Let me write my name
without alphabets.

The echoes come back
to pick the mundane sounds.
The celestial music will not be played again.

Satish Verma

03 September, 2016

Something New

Would you live without your
shell, one day? A chasm
was growing between us. I
was feeling very aloof.

Intruding on your private
grief, sometimes I will
see the blue veins ascending
the marbeled thighs.

Beehive and death, sets
us apart. Beyond the age
a sun sinks in crimson glory.
To bring peace on the spikes of grass.

The dreams were disappearing.
The house sits knee deep
in thoughts. I will be collecting the
knobs fallen from the doors.

Satish Verma

A Banquet Table

Performing to a script
you divide me like a fish.
From dirt a face rises.

One flew over the sea
to count the red islands
where the rocks hanged the dry skulls.

Why did you kill the panthers
by feeding them the toxic menu?
Sugar was never my cup.

It was not the question
of bread and butter:
we were talking of clean air.

The ashes will rule now.

Satish Verma

02 September, 2016

Great Expectations

Celebrating the death.
Neither physical, nor nostalgic-
I adore the finish,
in place of wages.

Not cerebral.It was
my pledge to remain a husk
after the carnage.

In manthanal I will preserve
the memories of hairless moon-
my nomadic friend.

Like a woodpecker to mark my
territory, I want to stay
alone in my grief.

March and dahlias.Sometimes
I stand before them and,
talk about ephemerality of the beauty.

When would you come
to say goodbye?

Satish Verma


An outsider
living in binary format,
without duality
like waves and particles
are one.
I was dying every day
in your hands with delight.

As the drifting dust
in light beam, I dive to
encounter the intensity
of pride:

A pyramidal rise, was
not the tale of the buried

In your continent
lies my land, unrepentantly.

Satish Verma

01 September, 2016

Post Valentine

After the full moon
I will collect roses
from your ashes.

The essay will not―
be written, about,
how did I love you.

The silent shriek
was left alone
in the valley.

Satish Verma


I know the flesh heals
but not the ethos.
Though I was not the doer
yet I did't fail in my journey
through dark.

It was a fait accompli.
Knelt in prayer, I was branded
with hot iron.

Why am I shaking
like Titanic? Your long arm
did not save me from the shining
iceberg of simple knowledge.

Do we go together in the sea?
The dark music was very
enticing.Brick by brick we had
made the levee.Now the river of rage
has broken the embankment.

You want to climb
from the abyss.A death wish
overtakes the hills.

Satish Verma