30 September, 2014

PARENTHESES

It was not easy,
to rewrite a dream poem
when you are bound and hurt.

*

A twiner
looms out, at my window.
Like a face, peeps in.

*

Do not want to tell,
about my sorrow,
before the dried up river.

Satish Verma

29 September, 2014

Renouncing

Move the steps,
to accept the dark.
Moon has abdicated the throne.

I am still trying to become.
Not becoming something.
A lot has remained―

unsaid in my small poems.
I am still trying, still trying
to decipher the life, to decipher.

The roots will know my pain.
My pain, why did I remained
mute amidst the clamouring words?

Tell me, why should it happen?
Why should? That someone jumps
in the boiling cauldron to find the truth.

Satish Verma

28 September, 2014

STILL ALIVE

It was difficult to revisit,
the birth therapy.

Arms had no emotions,
the violence will not go.

Let us take a back road for
the sake of anatomy.

And find out a man and the woman
to bend the gender.

The rock salt and the bruises
will melt, if you were warm blooded.

Satish Verma

27 September, 2014

A WHIRLWIND ROMANCE

I have accepted myself, now.

In incompleteness,
and all flaws.

The bunker was intent,
on self-destruction. Why
did you want to
stop that?

The prodigy will not
walk with me, I know.
Yet my shadow falls in love.

A tear-washed poem
was a good beginning.

Satish Verma

26 September, 2014

NOT A FATE

Stalking a poem
the art─
becomes a script.

*

At night it comes
to sleep in my bed.
A new verse.

*

I will reach you
in my ode,
one day.

Satish Verma

25 September, 2014

Sans Passions

After reaching, near─
the crumbling wall, you
enter the moment, for
want of an apology.

The surge walks with
the moon for a─
beheading. I was unaware
of the kindness.

The fierce revenge of the
night. Somewhere there was
an aberration. Two stark naked
kin went down fighting for a fish.

It was homage to the
pain after summary execution.
There was no resistance left
after the merciful end.

Satish Verma

23 September, 2014

Impersonation

You should have asked me.
Why was it not important─
to take a life, for saving
one other life?

I say, what did you give
me after the coronation?
Some sinuous questions?
Or splayed my heart open?

The crowd was always absurd.
You were latched onto the─
bronzed face of a naïve hero,
who wants the ants to drag an elephant.

The bone ossification proves
that you were still a juvenile.
St. Anthony's Fire? You want to
embrace the death now?

Satish Verma

22 September, 2014

The Hostage

Under siege,
tied to a bomb─
you were talking to yourself.

The violence inside you
had beaten you mercilessly.

The text has dried up.
Steal a glance─

and find out the blood spots
on the Mars, the god of war.

The sound in the vase, was becoming louder
of coins.

Now you will walk─
on my dead body.

Satish Verma

21 September, 2014

Depending On me

Disconnecting tragedy
you live again,
in myths
and illusions.

The grit. You lack the spine.
Rocks.
A slide.
The chicken.

The cow-pathway
leads to a barn of a mud hut,
where you stand every evening
to welcome the hoofs dust.

That tells the history,
the pain of unknowing,
revealing the name
of a killer.

There was silence
interrupted by a shriek.
Someone was rising
from the grave.

The inert things start moving.

Satish Verma

20 September, 2014

ETERNALITY

All day it rained.
There was no destination.
The futurist will incite
the blue light in the itinerary.

You can convert the eye
into moon. The sky follows
the assassin under─
the cover.

O Brother, I wanted to
scream. Lines were not clear
but the blood was same,
in syntax and on knife.

The potential, the genius,
the capital. They were clubbed
to win the game. The earth
will go searching the fakir.

Satish Verma

19 September, 2014

THE MYTHS OF LIES

Deflecting the light,
you stand in dark,
to find the truth.

To find the truth,
you stand in dark,
deflecting the light.

The numbers had failed.
The numbers. A prayer
for my zero.

For my zero, I walked
whole life.
Whole life. Zero.

Pardon my dust,
I was collecting
for my black hole.

From dust to dust.

Satish Verma

18 September, 2014

Transmutation

The single purple moon
was cruising non-chalantly.
You come out at the window─
and hit the headlines.

Put on hold, my existential
being. I am becoming
non-existent. The abundant
mental ills, become a cause.

Do you agree on this verdict?
It comes back to haunt you,
Your past. The black hope dis-
membering you. You come─

out finally to declare the murder.
I am waiting in the wings.

Satish Verma

17 September, 2014

Gliding

Was it altruistic, donating
the light to the
data-catchers?

Sexing at the crack of
dawn, when you
were still a primate?

Let a requiem begin
for the repose of undead
souls, writhing in life.

Draped in skin, the
hungered crowd, comes
for a dip in confluence.

The frail sky now falls
in the river. there will─
be no prayer today.

Satish Verma

16 September, 2014

One More Anniversary

The dust blends with
the humid specks.
Smoke twirls. Hangs for a
while, and then departs.

Something was burning far away.
Inside me also. To ashes.
I release the crematory.
It was over.

I will scatter the years,
spent with you. On a sand bar.
Where we stood when tide was
low. Now it is overwhelmed,

the bank. The seagulls don't
leave ther engraved, gender signs.

Satish Verma

15 September, 2014

For A Desirable World

An extreme smog descends
on your eyes. A heavy haze envelops
the landscape. You watch the
world crumbling around you.
The death was very beautiful
thing, a moment before dying.

Becoming activist had contributed
towards the end; like
targeting yourself to be hanged.
The particulates pollution of
depression had seeped, and
Milky Way was asking, are you breathing?

The fish now swims outside
the body. Death has many colours to celebrate.

Satish Verma

14 September, 2014

UNDER THE CLOUD

The depression,
in purple moon,
scattering black magic.

The eatery, I ask, why were
you hungry?
The singsong tea pot smiles.

The theme of mist
valley, incites the palazzo;
and the riots begin.

A dark silhouette, looms─
against the falling star,
I start picking up the debris.

On the fringe of
economic boom, I put my
hands in the wronged shirt.

Satish Verma

13 September, 2014

Thinking Aloud

The flames had
not reached the sun. Moon
was asked to take a leave.

*

In candle march,
someone starts crying.
Moon was found in lake.

*

An anger jumps
like a monkey. A Buddha
does not agree.

Satish Verma

12 September, 2014

Negotiation

Like runaway water
you run to meet your lover,
the death.

The hidden story,
spurts many questions.

You want the
severed head of the pen
back, to write the destiny.

The savage resurgence
of abducting─
the aurorean light,

will demand a
heavy price, since the
cease-fire had melted down.

The lotus-eaters
will decide to open
the scars.

Satish Verma

11 September, 2014

TIME WILL TAKE REVENGE

Knife for knife.
Shadows were chasing,
the slain.
Flawed, you were
at wrong place at the
wrong time.
You need to learn, how
to die anonymously.

It was always extreme.
The temper, the love,
the hate.
You could offer yourself
for idiopathic study.

A trail of broken limbs
partially leads to truth.
Adrenaline can cause
you to shut the mouth.

The organized violence, ultimately
triumphs.

Satish Verma

10 September, 2014

EXPRESSIONS

It was a turf war.
The moon was booby-trapped
by clouds.

*

An electronic
claws holds you to the
chest of night.

*

From flesh
to flesh, I surrender
my nomadic spirit.

Satish Verma

09 September, 2014

PONDERING

A decapitated
thought, writes a new scribble
on the sands.

*

There were dark
footprints of a seagull
on the white beach.

*

I am sitting
on the bank, counting
the beating waves.

Satish Verma

08 September, 2014

Fury

While I limp,
a schizo runs parallel with the moon.

Climbs the hill

to sort out the night. Terror.
The shadows were fighting. The lost innocence.

Delta was forked, dividing the pain. Sensuous

bliss rising, falling.

Where will you go now? Billions of planets wait for your arrival. Einstein

was calling you again.
The shards of moon were waterborn

reflecting in your eyes.

Satish Verma

06 September, 2014

Poetic

In fending off, the questions,
after mutilation,
a maverick was asking,
would you go beyond the species?

Escape was not an
abstract. It was a concrete evidence
against the bleed and hurt.
Invocation was becoming absolute necessity.

The poetry of death has
many stanzas. The tribe wants
it share, but I will write
about the beauty of dying sun.

Silence was a true poem.
You speak some inaudible words.

Satish Verma

05 September, 2014

ASHAMED

Afraid to ask, the white
fingers, to write a name on black paper.

The milky way.*Janus will
trap the light and open the doors.

War of words was not
going to stop. The alphabets do─

not pronounce well. The─
rape, the brutality, the mutilated death?

The mother tongue weeps.
The masks will write a history, in exile.

Throwing the coins? The
real face becomes a poem, lifting the wrists.

Satish Verma

04 September, 2014

Relentlessy

Living the moment
without participation.
Not accepting the liberation.
I will call you when
earth starts weeping.

Someone lights a match
in dark, to see the rim
of black hole. A
suspension bridge hangs
between the tunnel of lies.

The uncertain tomorrow
and truncated present.
The life breaks the relationship
between fire and rain. Now
you invoke the black cloud.

The mania. You are shoved
on the tracks before incoming
electric wheels. This was
democracy on move pushing
the entrails out.

Satish Verma

03 September, 2014

Words And Passages

Defining the borders
with guilds,

a body hangs on a rope
mauled and fabled.

I am making a fool of myself
to find your hand.

Watching the world upside down,
the ailing Buddha─

was dying. I don't own the day.
Tomorrow will not remain yours.

Satish Verma

02 September, 2014

Taking Cognisance

Only by accident you
will find life in
the dead elephant.

We start soul-searching
to uncover,
the hidden path to─
landlocked sea of poachers
of ivory truth.

Infant cries, sleeping
in grass, wait for the
blossoms of spring.
Like a panther
a red cloud descends
to kill the moving, play
without pain.

The nightfall,
when you will discover
yourself in grief
and wait for the sun.

Satish Verma

01 September, 2014

EXTOLLING

With timeless words,
you glorify the puppet,
slapping the moon.

*

How strange!
The master was stealing
the wheat of hungry.

*

The man versus
beast. A chaste rivalry.
Who was vulgar?

Satish Verma