Anatomy Of Violence

The insider,
of a windowless room
outreaches a gun.

A signature assault
nips at your heels
in revenge.

Mind in a rubber sac,
in search of─
a real country.

A balloon thought,
soars high, towards infinity,
to snoop at the god.

You should have
myriad tears, for the
fallen, *Black Beauty from unknown.

Satish Verma

Misdemeanor

A war was on,
(psychological)
to transgress the unwritten line.
Me, stranded on the
sands of time.

Day after day
shaven heads in protest
erupt in fury.
Firebrands join like
ducks to water.

In camera, you
open the folds of mystery.
As we start reading script,
the wounds were mine,
and you were the sounds.

On the table, I put my
eyes, ears and my
father's shoes. I come
out in open, to take
a shower of abuses.

Satish Verma

NEW PATHWAYS

Despite the anger,
the truth will
not speak.

*

It was a concussion,
after the fall.
A prophet had fainted─

*

in midsentence.
A blue vase was broken
in the smell of roses.

Satish Verma

SOARING HIGH

Ethics
takes a nap,
in a blink,
without qualms.

*

A jilted lover, like
a broken moon, takes
a jump from the hill.

*

In this twilight
who am I,
in this crowd of sinners?

Satish Verma

MAKING OVERTURES

Night.
A scantily clad sky,
with unkempt clouds.
Moon was climbing.

Caved in.
I had nothing left
to say, except
soundless poems.

No regrets;
in this climactic
struggle of life. The
pain eases, when

memory fails.
The flesh engages the
spirit. End would wait
till the grass banks.

Satish Verma

Oversighting

With shaking hands
you give a fatal push
to the old year.

*

Inner turmoil
falls through the cracks
of your persona.

*

A troubled past
wants you to end the slavery
of sleeping, between birth and death.

Satish Verma

New Year

The dream death;
while birthing a─
poem, weeping
between the lines.

Why do you grieve
for the old year?
The moon will again─
rise and you can

pick up the black
roses for the baby dawn.
Waging your war till
eternity, you can kiss

the red lips of morning
sun. I welcome you,
new year, in my tattered
clothes and golden heart.

Satish Verma

Scraping The Dimness

Like a prune, it was
an old year, standing
before me. You start
counting the wrinkles.

In shift, you become
the problem, cannot read
the jigsaw. It had
uprooted the faith.

I was terribley upset, the
birds had not returned
to the lake this winter; what
do I do, I was talking to moon.

A new misty morning. I take a
small foot, set myself in the
god's hour and start
planting the bulbs of tulips.

Satish Verma

THE COMMITMENT

The lesion was
spreading. From
inside, I hear the wails.

Past and present
of time, plows
the furrows, in future.

Seeds remain
unplanted. I seek
justice from the earth.

Turn off the lights
I want to see─
the moon in its full glory.

Someone has left
the message for us.
Go out to face the wolves.

Satish Verma

EJECTION FRACTION

Step down from your
ego. The brain dead has─
left a lesson.

Left a lesson, the brain dead.
Will you measure the
EF before the cardiac arrest?

Sexing an issue
of dented verbs, why
do you need a defence?

The numbers are climbing.
You have entered─
a high risk zone,

of killing yourself.
Give me a ghost writer, I
need an art, not a duplicate.

Satish Verma

It Was Pindrop Silence

Into the nightscape,
an earthen lamp ushers in
the new year.

*

I will look
back at the bright moon
hung on a tree.

*

In misty dawn
the suspense grows deeper.
There was a huge explosion.

Satish Verma

PREDATION

There was no clear move.
Flamethrowers were on the way-

and I was looking,
backward.

A fragile truce with the
clouds. They had abandoned-

the sky and were wringing-
the neck of mountains.

Compromising with the painted lips
of winter, my secret was out.

I was shivering in the crowd
of moon-gazers.

Satish Verma

POISED

Deceived several
times, you err again, and
put up your debut kill.

*

A graphic escape,
of moon from the dark
clutches of clouds.

*

The blackbucks
get ready to leapfrog on the
first sound of shots.

Satish Verma

ABUSING SELF

Starting a blaze
in rape crime.

Schizophrenic scroll,
outwatching you.

Forgo the sun,
your friend, death─

was ambling again─
nearby. A troubled─

bee cannot find
her hive. They were

hanged in a row.
All the nudes.

I will declare war
on the vulgar exhibits.

Satish Verma

STOKING A FLAME

In raw blackness
you want to find fireflies
in the hedges.

Green on green
I ambush the chill
of a dying moon.

Silently you meditate,
as the fog descends
settling discreetly─

on your thoughts.
A cat jumps the wall
in pursuit of a game.

Why to recall the father's
death. In autumn night
I will break the vow.

Satish Verma

CROSSING THE ROAD

You flock to a set trap.
A bubble.
Midnight: with pain
and anger, when a real and virtual drama
unfolds.
Mercy waits.

Meditating: still
like a Buddha, a moon was
watching you.

Watching you,
a moon, like a Buddha:
still, meditating.

Innocence versus
ignorance. A mob impaled
on the doorstep of future,
unsure, but agitated.

Life demands a full beheading.

Satish Verma

A SMILE WAS RAPED

A pinch of moon
in the glass of my wine.

I was looking at xerophytes
in timeless zone.

Like vampire bats hanging
down from a branch, till eternity.

What a tenacity, I would say.
The world was not going to end.

I would also not like the continuity
of any drift or agitation.

You make the water silted.
Truth of baby innocense─

takes birth again and again
even the dark energy or

dark matter overwhelms.

Satish Verma

SNEAKING DESIRES

The pursuit of a rainbow
in the tiger sanctuary.
Mathematics fails.

*

Sundew
invites you to taste the flesh.
You fall like a guilt.

*

The pink moon
melts down in your dream. You
will not touch the flame.

Satish Verma

WINTER SCRIPT

The lust overtakes
the content.
Winter solstice gives the answer.

*

The winter moon.
How much a bunker will
provide you the shelter?


*

A countryside.
The huddled mushrooms
protecting their kids.

Satish Verma

SNARING

While delaying gratification,
you stripped-down
to bones.

It was winter solstice,
when day and night confronted
each other─

in negativity. Tracking
the frozen footprints, my absence
was generic.

I dread the barrenness─
of looks, the unwritten wounds
seeking the healer.

The avalanche falling
rapidly on the streets, with placards
demanding the gallows─

for the tainted. The
victim lies still. Ashes fly
back at the purebreds.


Satish Verma

AFTER THE ASSAULT

The hurt of a game.
Myth has played with the─
life of a song bird.

A dream becomes opaque.
You cannot find any─
image of blood.

A window shuts─
the moon. The rainbow will
grope for a sky.

And I must find
some excuse to live. The nascent
hope outleaps the black─

rain falling on eyes. Panic
grips poppies. They throw up the
color, the fresh dawn.

Satish Verma

MAN AND THE BEAST

After knowing so much
of unknown,
you were afraid, but I
lunge for the relic.

How far you will sink
in the depth of cries?
The moon will not─
offer her lips.

Light will not give you
the vision. A sin unrolls.
The city burns in its─
own garbage.

As soon as the water
dries, eyes will blink─
to nail down the constellation
in fog. The tongues retreat.

Satish Verma

A Crouching Stance

It was an outrage.
The weaver on the
loom was brutalized.

A design was raped.
The color screams,
I want to live.

Septicaemia spreads.
Time to be ashamed,
when your gut was removed.

The salt hurts on
the bitten lips. A
genome falters.

Let me try to define─
who we are; and
where we are going.

Satish Verma

Interactive

Unknowing the known
was politics
of unsold thoughts.

*

This was─
cyberstalking. I do not want
to talk.

*

The game
has backfired. It has
become a land mine.

Satish Verma

Unmourned

You were not present.
Far from the pallid sky─
in the graveyard,
the marbled tears
had become the eyes.

The meanness of the grill.
It will not fix the sun.
I stand by a river,
which was very thirsty─
very deep.

The silent flight of a
white falcon takes a dive─
for the darkned moon.
The wingless poem soars high
to catch the words.

The jacarandas were trumpeting
in blue flowers, of the return
of demigods.

Satish Verma

After The Carnage

Prepare the beds
for the nocturnal read of book.
The wodden angels-
have arrived, carrying
the golden caskets.

O zero town,
your children are coming home.
There will be no interrogation
in this fusion of grief
and anger!

I refuse to take
a hoax call of death. The
moon becons for an eternal bliss.
Let the red eyes─
speak not of any pain.

The agony of crying sky
will not be said by any mourning
mother, when you throw the dust
unto dust. A new journey
had just begun.

Satish Verma

The Bloody Hand

You must be precise.
I am in search of me.

No clue, yet to find the hand,
which was baked in the klin─
and that did not feel the pain.

It was all over. No need to nurse
anybody. The wounds, the multiple
bullet marks. Did you see it coming?
The fusillade, which lit up the room?

You become the question to find the
answer. Come out of the body.
There was no spring in sight.
It was a long winter of sealed lips

You must be color-blind.
The roses look black. The
avalanche was red!

Satish Verma

Loving Our World

We heard the screams.
Water to water,
fire to fire.
It was not marginal pain.
A meaningful dialogue
had started in unhinged doors.

The house is empty.
You come out from nothingness
to share the slogans.

The country wakes in the eye of guns.

Someone was fishing in troubled
waters. The bread becomes crazy.

Under the black moon
the white, hungry mouths.
A sacrifice!

Satish Verma