Forgetting The Hymn

Spherules start a pincer attack
on the modesty of an epiphany.
The manifestation was incomplete.

The windows were very small in-
the wind-palace. Only ringdoves
were sitting on the sills, cooing all day.

They were sitting in a row; cross-
legged, the naked monks. As a penance
they were getting the scalp hair pinched off.

Swearing will not help. You need to
suffer like a forgotten language,
like grass blades who bend again & again.

Satish Verma

ICING

The twin blasts and
lip-syncing was
no insane coincidence.
The travail of incredible sinking
will never be found.

The abstract family
and myriad remixing of stem cells
may solve the puzzle of
assured suicide of the earth.
The small rapes and big assaults?

A crazy progenitor wanted
to have a control on volcanoes
as on sea. The spewing
lava was throwing gas rich froth
to start a megarevolution.

Was it a terrible mistake of
you coming out of the mud pits?

Satish Verma

IMPERIOUSLY

A downy mildew.
I will undress
the leaves.

Leaving the truth
at your door,
trespassing the moon.

When a house
was felled, why were
you collecting the blueberries?

Now, a brown poem
will write your name
on the guillotine.

An ocean apart
a voice booms
a shame for an empire.

Satish Verma

TRAVAILS OF VIVISECTION

The future dubs.
A pride is shattered.

The philanderer moon
sprawls over the
candlewick.

A ghost walks
through the wall.

A thin blade of
grass, holds the sun
for ransom.

Fireflies flutter in head
savagely.

I was not able to sleep.
What was the theme of the murder?

No sugar, no salt
was worthy of death.

Satish Verma

Outplaying

They walked out gagged
before they entered the water
for an irreverent
ceremony.

It was a coal time
to start the fire. A salute
in light was given to those
who were alive.

You can go for a strip-
search of a gaint jelly fish
to find the vertical beams
in its dome.

A painted stork comes
with an empty pouch. There
was a perpetual delay in
understanding the parenthesis.

Satish Verma

Wandering Jew

Counting the digits,
of your hand, you forget,
how many fathers you have.

Was it not very odd that
truth exists in the crying eyes
of a child whose mother
had abruptly disappeared?

It always hurts, when
realization comes. A little
sprig of cowlick, reminds you of
timelessness. You can move-

in any direction. You want to
go. That will need a third eye.

Satish Verma

THE BIOMETRICS

The freak accident
of a paranormal mystic, begins
a telekinesis in the dark room
to internalize the chopped off
obsession of sex.

You will be needed as a
fugitive now, in the
muddle of passions. There was
a complete lull before the storm.
A pindrop silence.

An anxiety starts, of-
becoming nothing, in the comfort
zone. The roots look up
at the lunar month, to bail out
the loner, convicted of sedition.

Satish Verma

Some Prelude

There were, peels
of ripples. Between.

The tangled arguments. Then you
start reading in the bumps;
a cold blooded murder.

Of poems? Serrated, when

I lifted them from your bloody hands.
No miracle. The animal
survives, without water, air.

You come down the ramp
without shoes to reclaim
the heritage.

And that means, there had been
an attempt, to commit suicide!

Satish Verma

It Was Invasion

How will you measure the wide
gulf between words and hyphens?
The apostrophes will give you
restrain and isolation.

The predators will sit and
wait for the fallouts. The night
was your domain to start
sinning; in erasing the numbers.

The midnight grief during the
assault of moon. Were you ready
to unmask the hidden inter-
polator? The merciless thrush?

Candidiasis? It was eating
away your smell, your taste
and moments of glimpses
of the fire in the groins.

Satish Verma

Ritualist

Boundaries untouched-
I held your hands.
Peer to peer.

The highway apart-
we will become strangers,
when life would beat the flower beds.

From mountain top-
the moon will come down,
to ask for the way to martyrdom.

How will I find you-
riding on a hurricane,
when the deluge underwhelms the bridge.

Not made public-
I took you in moonlight,
celebrating the arrival of the cage.

Satish Verma

THE TRAPPERS

There was left no middle,
of the path. It was a washed-
out theme and
negative numbers.

No bounce in the steps.
You were cowering in terror
of tomorrow. The fear
overwhelmed the alp.

It was a family feud,
from ashes to bones.
The mixed cadence was sending
the wrong signals to the walls.

The voices now come on the street,
for traditional wars, in
change of seasons. It
was raining out of turn.

Satish Verma

THE FIREBRANDS

Do not remove the hyphens.
The stars were trekking
on foot.

All that was a mirage.
A hot rood was leading
to a watershed.

The wholeness splatters
on the bank. The water,
takes all the dots and dashes.

The black tree was stark
naked. No leaves, no fruits.
Only the singed wood.

You cannot make the
matchsticks. You will have
to rub your hands to start the fire.

Satish Verma

THE SECOND NIGHT

A gene switch takes an
ultimate spin. The
hunger pangs increase.
Nostalgia looks up at the moon.

- - - - - - - - - - -

I cannot predict the junk;
cannot see the dark matter.
But I know well, how you will
behave when your head explodes.

- - - - - - - - - - -

The body stuns the anointed
deity. It was difficult to foretell
who was a sinner. I
do not want to summon another god.

- - - - - - - - - - -

You open the belly knot of a
beast. A butterfly flutters
on your lips. I implore a memorable
kiss of the beautiful descent.

Satish Verma

THE POEM

In high definition
you were extolling the
unspoken words.
I was trying to grab that
something, so nice,
like a poem.

My mate!
Let us talk about the
rhythm of wilderness in private.
It has been ages
when we slept together,
like a poem.

Where there was a
waterfall, you were crying,
as a fallen dew. I
wanted to hold you on
the leaf of grass,
like a poem.

Satish Verma

WITH APOLOGIES

Sitting in ivory tower
you will watch a tragedy
of epic nicknames.

In future of reprisals
there was a culture of hate.
A solar hit will claim the frenzy.

It was a naked death
of a stolen whip, at
high speed game of sex.

A new wrinkle appears
on the headless body,
after the wow, oh wow!

Why did you take my
name for your name?
After all what is in a name.

Satish Verma

Emission Biochemical

The spill overwhelms-
the bank. The fish
will meet the mates.

*

Fireflies outstretch,
in green blaze, igniting
the extinct flame.

*
It is September, and
I need you, for
a final rendezvous.

Satish Verma

Mystery

The fumbling picks up.
The sixth sense
was failing.

A mother weeps
for the unborn child.
You were still ogling the peaks.

Were you true to yourself
in the dark, when the
moon was away?

I had lost the burning
coals, after the
rains came.

The dark mine, where
they were shot, for
picking up the lightning.

Satish Verma

A BROKEN PRIDE

A leap into death bed.
The water of life
had sucked you dry.

Tracking a subtle sound,
I was chasing you
in the jungle of untruths.

You being in the crowd,
I was locating the god’s
vision in failing lights.

Who was hiding behind
the torn pages of
scriptures? The words

had started bleeding.
O, my god, the man was
going to defile a beast!

Satish Verma

THE KICKING WINDS

A doer was seeking
a physical thing
in this age of carnality.

Truth falls on your
path when you become
an absentee.

Take a break from
the silent assaults. Do
not go for a dirty play.

I will not do any
commerce with the paid
style of the omnivores.

The soil does not need
any weapons. It was
always under your feet.

I will wait for a disaster
to happen.

Satish Verma

Individuality

One day, a dark tunnel
will ask, what was your
being, survival mode?

*

On a mission, concluding
the life, I am changing
the view of the world.

*

Back and forth, you
lived days, months, years.
Seeking eternity in moments.

Satish Verma

Reverie

It was not the ordinariness.
The pain of rejection. One
night my lips touched
the lips of moon, to soak the
grief. Do not want to cross-
the threshold of guilts, like
burnished armor
taking the law into my own hands.

Waiting for a spacewalk
of the gods to find the culprit,
who escaped before your
own eyes through the gauze
of silver dust. To quit the ground
or not was the cardinal point.
You remained attached to the
faded poster of childhood. It was
a generational tragedy.

Satish Verma

PIVOTING

Under a blue moon,
a cuckoo
gives an agonizing call.

*

Clouds will wait.
Till a caravan
of herons will sail.

*

The rains have
washed away all the malice,
all the soot.

Satish Verma

DRENCHING

To find peace,
you break the coconut,
a ritual to dent
the dark night.

Amnesia disconnects
your pronouns.
You do not remember
your name.

A monkey or a fowl.
The existence was
the same for your
unknown inheritance.

Want to collect the golden
motif; from the
old brick house, sans
a real god, old brick house.

A straight line hangs
from a roof, igniting the
faith. There was no ghost
no jinni.

Satish Verma

The Firefiıes

Rainbow, a hymn
never betrays you.
Always comes after the rain.
*
Lying on grass
watching the sky
for a blue moon.
*
I dream and I
stare without eyes
into the words.

Satish Verma

Holding The Waves

Poverty of thoughts
beats you endlessly.
What was the other form of violence?

Body of water bursts.
There was an absentee lover
trying to overtop the levee.

Pounding of chest
was figurative.
Someone was dying of hunger.

It was a great paradox.
The eagle was rising
for a sudden dive.

Labyrinthine. An intricate
argument. From which-
side will come the death?

Satish Verma

Bare Journey

Overly possessing the karma,
you sail in meditation.
Does creation tag along
the destruction of self?

The chain persists. You leave
the theater. The ancient
voice gives the soft resoundings.

Something was always left
to say. The neophyte will
not speak. The arms
were overreaching.

Take hold of the window.
Some light will have deep
penetration. Edge was very
sharp. Pack up your belongings.

Satish Verma

Reverberating

After the rains,
it was a full moon
in summer night.

Fleeing from a subculture-
of violence, she was
nestling in the arms of clouds.

A lost killer swearing
with bruised arms,
raking up the old vendetta-

beheads the phallic
image. A brutalizing
score, when we were celebrating

the moon’s arrival. There was
no impropriety in spilling.
Sperm was the conjugal bliss.

Satish Verma

Make Believing

Unstitched, you visit
my navel, without
warning. There were

bloody stains. I made
no surrender. The bullet
went very deep.

Sovereignty was at stake.
I sit like Buddha
under a raging moon –

invoking the spirits. An
irreverence bites me, scares
me to the bones.

Glitch. I lost the vision.
The nude version was
very pure, very sane.

Satish Verma

REMEMBERING NEIL ARMSTRONG

The coal and blackened hands.
Zero was the cardinal sin.
After the lunar walk,
you flinch back in horror.

A gaint leap has ended
in a coal tar pit. Are you
sure we have landed
at a right spot?

Extraterrestrial. An immune
disorder. Your autism
was evolving into a
monster of twisted brain.

Outside your home
dozens of bodies were found.
What were you doing
when genocide started.

Satish Verma

Unheading

O my Master!
I am breaking rank,
with space and cosmos.

The scorched earth
wants another moon,
another sun.

The blue abyss
invites for a final plunge.
I may find my stars.

O my pain!
give me more needles
more bites.

On a platter
you carry the severed title
of my poem.

Satish Verma