31 August, 2016

Synopsis

Valentine?
What do you want
to read?

Between sex and
surrogacy?

No monikers.
Pure frankenstein!

O, naïve culpabilibity,
do not sleep on my arm.

Unmoving, the suffix
disappears.
I am still holding
the question mark.

Satish Verma

Abstract Thoughts

Escaped soul
was pronounced dead, after
becoming rich. You start
peeling of the skin of neo-poverty.

Hunger equates you with god.
It hurts your tarnished honesty. The
image of half-man, half-tiger.
The veneer coming off very soon.

The pepper spray was well
planned for steady hands to
make you spring-blind. Your pockets are
full of fireflies.

The poetry effect was negligible,
when you start praying for snowstorm.

Satish Verma

30 August, 2016

Ascending Paresis

This was the art of killing.
From the dizzying
heights you throw the
vesicants.

Now you need the gliomas
to finish the job.

At wrong time, I was
raising the bizarre questions.
Why the wealth brings-
the change of life?

A wandering pain
caves in, where the moon
looks sick in its paleness.

The massive lies, deep
in dirty tricks after the traffic
of voices.In blank space
I plant my poem.

Satish Verma

Not On Crutches

Not impassible.
Buried in snow, I
will bring back my moon.

There was no divination.
I still stand on my legs.

I will not talk about shadows
or any haloes. An urge to find
unknown. Touching the feet?
No I don't submit to body.

No rewards. No citation.
I will walk alone in the jungle
of prying eyes, in my
visible bones.

The flame-test. The truthless
blames, and a naked god.
I have come faraway from my childhood.

Satish Verma

29 August, 2016

A Grave Question

The bio sheet remains
incomplete.
I am leaving the papers blank.

Singed, as the white coal:
the ash, smudged on eye brows.
I have come to rekindle
the dying flames.

The anger was mine,
scolding the scarf in winter storm,
what was the need to spread the
white sheet?

Like you will not write, an―
apology for kissing a cobra tongue.
It was ok to become a fool?

Where a tear sits on
the edge to fall in silence
for not undoing the hawthorn?

Satish Verma

Armless Salutation

Going within to feel
the war moves.The pagan
gods have come out
on parole.

Was it an esoteric event
to propitiate a violative
divinity? From crude to soft
affirmative nod, I am going to-
see the game of chairs.

Between sin and virtue,
wrong and right, nonage
always jumps into.Too proud to accept
the defeat.First the annihilation
and then the fathering.

This genesis had no design
no vision.A miraculous journey
downhill.The dawn is still
faraway.Nightlong agony
will continue.

Unclenched I hold the pen
to say nothing.

Satish Verma

28 August, 2016

The Water In Boat

Understanding the poverty
of the earth, the pain,
of the primal tribe,
invoking the god of sky.

In my victory, I was stabbed.
I will go and meet the sea.

You are there, O hunger
of home and peace, mute
as a stone, baked in
sun, waiting for the ripples.

I will burry the blackberries
in dreams, the lips will
seek the silence of a stroke,
when moon walks in unannounced.


Satish Verma

Not A Noble Thing

Poetry of vengeance.
This was not any pulverized
version of new memes, the
digital eating
of the truth.

We are not moving at all.
A hidden rope becomes a rattler,
frightens you from the
narcissistic stupor.

Every day a scam erupts.
The veil remains intact, but the
undercurrent explores the path
to kill you.

There was no music left in
legs. A black window jumps
over the fence. A sharp
sting brings the angina.

Satish Verma

26 August, 2016

Calamity

In my assets
you blaze.
A past of you in my
future torments the wait.

Lynx-eyed you-
nip the dark.Moon will rise
after awhile.

My kin,
God's untouchables,
were born with hoods.

I am the snow
you melt in nude.The
natural thing, suicidal.

Now the shadows
lengthen.Solar eclipse
was very near.

I am going to drag out
the eternal truth.

Satish Verma

Walking Out

Do not give me a shrine.
Not for me.

A no-name.

Between hollyhock and
rose, I like the
laltern.

I am not a savage,
mangling, the bush.

Happy hormones,
I am coming at peace with me
but no opioid sleep.

Thumbs-up for my failure
to become a joke.

Satish Verma

25 August, 2016

Will You Admit?

An indecent
exposure. It was not
a game, to kill
a panther, moving
around in search
of prey.

And the basic instinct.

The fundamental trait defict
was between hunger
and ecstasy, between beast
and man.

You will chase a
butterfly, not for pleasure
but to become
an animal.

This was the observer,
and that was observed.

Satish Verma

Now I Speak

Becoming myself,
in the light of a flint, I
come back to retrieve the story,
after the pernicious fall.

Do I tell you the truth
of the doll's death? The damned
shock- after the head
was severed from its body.

The golden leash lies broken
Where your religion
has failed? I am carrying
the wheels of the dirty war
to put on the crumbling walls of peace

Te untouchables.They are
crowding the square.Do you
hear the heart rending slogans?

The borrowed mantras
were fake.Mud in mud, you want
to outlive the dark caves.

Satish Verma

24 August, 2016

Irrelevantly

To drink the sea,
spilled over
from your eyes was not an easy task.

It was getting
dark, outside.
Inside an eternal flame
of separation
was flickering.

About the consent
of owning
privacy of truth,
I withdraw
my comments.

Now no shroud was needed
to cover the naked body.

Satish Verma

The Definition

Do not
give me a dream.

I will return my name.

There was no arrival
for me. Like wintergreen.

No ending,
no point, no tip.

A continuum
of space, time
and pain.

A stream on blackstone
flowing after the hail,
pellets of frozen tears.

Satish Verma

23 August, 2016

Cold-Bloodedness

Gifting myself a new
hurt, though ephemeral, do
you feel my nearness
when I don't speak?

It doesn't work, your
patience with a deadpan face.
How would you talk to
butterflies, hollyhocks and
blackbirds?

You had tried to overrun
your own self by giving away
your eyes.Mind it, your
vision will still follow you
at burning pyre.

Weep, weep my poems
weep.The seduction was not
your gold, nor your enemies.
Then whom you are going to make
your god?

The handcuffs have no answer.

Satish Verma

For Others

Salt burnt, you come
under the shade
of milkworts.

Not fated, you still
wanted, unaided departure.

Reading the lifeline in your hand,
why did you opt
to kick the bucket?

You wanted to celebrate the luge with vodka?

How do you get in my shoes?
You become me?
The blue lake of your eyes was frozen
I will walk on ice to reach your home.

Satish Verma

22 August, 2016

Staircases

Why the pink words
float in black eyes?
I swear, I will not look
at the moon again.

The city burns in snow.
A jump of small
legs, takes you far
from the roar of falls.

The blackbird was my
mascot, sitting on the white
birch, dreaming blue.

A white sheet covers the
shrieking nails. You
cannot walk barefoot
on smouldering candles.

Why again you are climbing
the volcanos?


Satish Verma

The Essence Of Nothingness

Mind goes blank.
In the interim relief- I will wake
with the moon tonight,
to inherit your pain.

Picking up the marbles
you nurture the memories.
In your speechlessness-
you have spoken a Buddha.

Buried in lake you dig out
the incense of life.
A rumor breathes.The untrounced
myth becomes the angel.
Will you meet the danger again?

The wounds were
becoming older.You want to
start the fight afresh? Against
the inevitable?
Why you were growing the sage?


Satish Verma

21 August, 2016

Night Eye

I will ask
the moonflower to give me
a beautiful death,
under the Nightshade.

A nocturne clue;
will you play the piano for me
for a last time? Are you going to meet me in
the grid, crossing the sharp angles?

The signs start shimmering
in dark, like cobra's
tongue.I don't call the names.Overbiting, I
hold the words.

Loss of faith, I
don't believe in me.Did I
betray your creation O god?
The virtuals are overtaking me.
Your flagship becomes a hoax.

I change my name for ever.


Satish Verma

Drooping Lids

Like it was pain of sea.
The waves are not rising.

You remember the depth
of eyes, of heart,
when you cannot read the
face of shadows.

So much soundless crying.
The birds have gone
to distant shores
for water.

Manytimes I had given
a call. Immaculate exit.
I will not carry any stigmas.
Want to travel light―

to meet my tormentor.


Satish Verma

20 August, 2016

Night Eye

I will ask
the moonflower to give me
a beautiful death,
under the Nightshade.

A nocturne clue;
will you play the piano for me
for a last time? Are you going to meet me in
the grid, crossing the sharp angles?

The signs start shimmering
in dark, like cobra's
tongue.I don't call the names.Overbiting, I
hold the words.

Loss of faith, I
don't believe in me.Did I
betray your creation O god?
The virtuals are overtaking me.
Your flagship becomes a hoax.

I change my name for ever.

Satish Verma

Wafer-Thin

Wearing a straitjacket
you come out in open.
This was a black day.
You were not invited.

The economy smells of stale fever.

A pungent smoke rises
from the joints.

A decision drifts. Scare of
paper bomb stills―
the flow of tea.

There was a party.
People come and go. Skullcaps
galore. White on brown sugar.

There is no love lost between us.


Satish Verma

19 August, 2016

Tulips Were Coming

Schizoidly I walked
with the moon― by night/
when you slept―
in my eyes.

I will leave my shadow
behind, one day
in dark.

Death is no exit. There was
no clear message for withdrawl.
The enemies were drawing near.

I will not push the cart.
There was no bunker homicide.
Hidden marriage bears the fruit.

Truth was behind me
I am naked like a candlestick.
The religion puts out the light.


Satish Verma

With Invocation

I will call you
in a moon night-through
a fragile letter,
for extracting the end of beginning
to do a Houdini
to escape from the straitjacket
of your own commitment.

Decades on-
the house still carries the smudges
on the walls, where you
wrote dreams in vermilion
and later on singed yourself out-
to become disfigured.

For whom you laid seige,
your silence, becoming a song? A sculpted mutiny to
collect the thin bones asking
the moon to send more light.
Timeless a death waits in the shadows
for a fat answer.
I will spread the salt.


Satish Verma

18 August, 2016

Whom To Believe

It sets me off
when you bring up
afterlife.

With upturned
snout, the asp, enters
the hole.

Emptiness
fills the gaps. Somewhere
words join. Become a sentence.

Satish Verma

Tumbling Over

Standing in the centre of a circle,
trying to reach the periphery.
Was it a mistake―
to exhume the entombed
injury?

The bloody withdrawl
takes you back to brown
earth from the red sea.
How would you receive,
that you don't receive?

Your eyeslids flutter.
Sun will ask you for
shutting the eyes. The
glass breaks in your
globes.

Fibrosis cracks. You are
moving faster now in black rain.

Satish Verma

16 August, 2016

Asking For Sovereignty

It was a cloudburst-
from your saddened eyes.
I want you to hurt me.

Like blood fingers writing
a name in sky-of
a towering fault.The sin
0f unabandoning a hymn.

The breach will swallow
the lamb.I would not know
of the Aquila, how
big were its wings.

Burn me in your eyes.
O goddess, why you always

look like a fireball?

O liberty, what was the color
of your torn gown? The aconites and anemones
have beautiful buttercups.
How would you drink the lethal dose?

Satish Verma

Wild Thoughts

It was syntax
killing a kiss.
You play with a button.

You press a rose,
between the lips,
in black and white.

A nerve quivers
from head to toe.
Where the stars go when you cry.


Satish Verma

14 August, 2016

On Collision Course

No comments. The eagle
is ready to pounce on
your future, when you were
preparing to consume your past.

Flesh eaters. They are going
far than far. I wanted
to do something strange
and new, for example―

like destroying myself. Dirty
thoughts. Always coming with
new legends. It is a deep
hole. Cavernous.

A dark blankness. You
are not arriving. And then you
let it go― sensually, facing
the unknown. An explosion,

waits for a new birth. A poem!



Satish Verma

Art For Sale

Clapping with one hand,
when a suicide note was found
in the fist of a dead man.

I set the fire in my chest,
remaining again
unanswerable to you.

Inadequate was the
street sense, where the walls
go empty and meaning
was lost.

Take away my name,
my face, my legacy.I will
come back when nightingale sings.

Where was the law,
when you spoke truth
and lightning struck the temple?


Satish Verma

13 August, 2016

Anxieties

What could you do
when the donor fatigue
is on display? And stops the succor?
You are no more hungry.

A Buddha sleeps nonchalantly.

Small, blue grapes leave
their mark on the plate.
It will take decades to unknow
the sexual orientation.

Breathing in the incense,
the cannabis rules.
You were inhaling the history.

A unisex quality
in the seedless pomes.


Satish Verma

False Ceiling

You wanted tranquility
clean and sane,
scudding at persona
impact.

Some thinking disorder?
You start cutting yourself.

Collecting the body parts.

Yellow jasmine. I will know that
I do not know the fields of hate.

When your world falls apart,
what I would do.

Every day
I dig up a sin
with a knife.


Satish Verma

12 August, 2016

What To Think

Cruel times,
and the walls are rising.
The rivals.Medusae versus columns.
Snakes for hairs
opposed to stones.
The bell shaped body with stinging
tongues.

I will not speak.
This is the gift from the womb of
evil.The blues.
Wounded by you.

The color changes.Sunrise to sunset.
You stay in sunroom, in dumbness.
Chilling poverty.

You shake violently.
Give me the skin to cover my bones,
I am bleeding black.You know the tilted moon
still crying.


Satish Verma

Dismay

It was not ending, not beginning
this fracas,
to search the exit.
Where to go where to.

The window
has jumped out
from the moon. what was
your ultimate? What was?

The cold-blooded
creepy object
discharging the virulent
flames virulent.

Migratory ink
always lands on the
paper, would not
move the words would not.


Satish Verma

11 August, 2016

On Blackboard A Chalk Writes

The water breaks.
Do you hear the voices?
I will ask my half self.

The pretension sends
neuroimages.
I am going home to read my horoscope.

Words grieve. I
have done a dream.
Silence sins.

Satish Verma

Your Dress Code

Coming back with
nipples and fangs, all
the black visions.

Those lunging at the
helpless prey, a hundred arms,
pythonic- to squeeze
the life out of
the rising voice.

You were my trust,
my secret, then why this
curse,
of your signs, your signature,
your face?

You were me, I was you.
We were not different, I open
my chest to receive the bullets
the stone, the stick.

The words.They swim
like dolphins, whistling
crossing the horizons
reaching beyond the colored dresses.

Satish Verma

10 August, 2016

Leaving The Home

Your hands
start a fire―
thinking beyond the rainbow.

The next hearing
will encompass the unheard sins
of islands.

In spot, you open
the lock and let in the strange voices,

wearing the hidden masks
of untold flaws.

The system starts crumbling
and you wash your feet
in tumbling water
of unsound river, held in abeyance.

No house was left
without ashes.


Satish Verma

Penury Ward

In tattered clothes.
I would see my returned privation.
I will make the holes bigger,
so that light seeps in,
on my blackened chest.

The lovers will not meet
today, out, in open;
on moonward path.

The charred remains―
of the rope are visible.
The soaked blanket, to sleep in,
has become infernal.

What are you drinking now?
No other passage,
no exit, even the kiss of death?


Satish Verma

09 August, 2016

Crossing The Bar

Beyond the gaze there is a time zone
of rumored agitation,
when you cannot sleep.
You open your eyes quietly to complain.

The caretaker has prepared the shroud.
Smoke is rising on the hills.
Nobody walks with you.It is a
lone journey, where centuries throw the dust
on your hallowed gifts.

The pyramid of signs, symbols, signatures,
disappear in penultimate flare.
Time to leave the waiting room.

The resurrection will take place now;
of fear, of despair, of foot steps in dark.
I will hear them, holding my breath.

Landscape will change into valley of tears.

Satish Verma

Soundless Sleep

Giving yourself,
a gift of trash, you were
waiting for the pain to return.

A shadow overtakes you
as if you were
walking on the dry lake bed.

An abandoned thought
becomes a philosopher.
How not to live again.

The birder meets a rainstorm,
on journey to unknown.
The poet and water become one.

Not easy to finish the
line. Something has remained
unsaid. The vultures descend.

Satish Verma

08 August, 2016

Leaves Of Roses

A racial profile begins
between black and white.
A silver moon ambles
as a prelude to dark music.

A winter night tosses hundred
excuses,
for not lighting the lamps.

Words were still trying to
find the ropes.

You should know your boundaries.
The honeysuckle will
not graze your lips.

The salt of earth settles
in tears of dawn.

Satish Verma

Paradigms

Becoming something from anything
was a great bliss of paradigm.
I take a dip in anonymity.

You will never know,
where you will start a rough patch
on the road?

A prehistoric site could not outlive
the humiliation of proximity to hate.
Violence chewed the dust.

My knees give way to anguish of morality;
horror of captivity of dawn.
The eyes are going to collapse in endless night.

Tapping of kernel in hand, shell of truth bothers you,
like a mountain dew under the stone.
I will destroy the anxiety of grass.

Death of desire may take place.
Fragrance still devastates the moon.

Satish Verma

07 August, 2016

Umbilicus

Converging at the well,
for the last rites, you set
the soul free, touching
the sacred water to―
your eyes.

The dead plaques break out on their own
from the walls, and were
flowing in the bloodstream.

Like a sloth you swing
upside down, unmoving.

Do not put up any petition.
You have reached the end of the road.

The dust and alpha particles
come in the way of lightstream.
A cup drinks the fetishes,
you will not.

Satish Verma

Debating The Verdict

The night shift starts.
A moonbeam comes and lies
beside me.

I was not hungry.
Cuckoo gives a call
I will not raise the flag.

The flesh, starts eating you.
Sometimes, for this
unnamed, you run cross-country.

Memories flare up.
A primitive wolf sends a howl.
You start reciting a prayer.

The age, will not pardon you.
Limbs spring to catch a butterfly.
Noiselessly a door shuts.

Satish Verma

06 August, 2016

Slit The Heart

You are trying to
seel the half-truths
in terror.

In the fear of-
annihilation, you
want to remain unborn.

The pity of unnaming
the pain, your body wrapped
in tinfoil- ready to be roasted.

The barren spirituality-
and nudeness-
of ecstasy.Do you think you were floating

like a cadaver?
Who will drink
the arsenic now?

The miracle.
I am legless and I move
swiftly to catch the words.

Satish Verma

Less Than Perfidy

Again, I remember you intensly
in dark night.

Fractious with myself
to fill in the void―
for not writing any end.

Trying to become human,
revenge for revenge―
life measures the exactness.

Like holding a firefly
in my palm, I was searching
the light.

Still trying to shake off
the dust, the ash, from the wings.
A long flight was ahead.

Satish Verma

05 August, 2016

The Moon

Like a mole, she was
coming up, tunneling
with strong paws.

Indignant, of being called
by the name.

You need darkness, to show your brilliance.

The language of fear, at hair distance
where the horizon ends.

The reluctant lover
will not speak the mind, to act
alone was impossible.


Satish Verma

The Sundial

The orifice was absent
from the face.
The hatred will unite the enemies.

You won't speak
in the debate, how to
murder the humanity.

Old affections are made
anew.You can score the
highest tears


Armless, you move
the clock in-
opposite direction.

The stigma still remains
after the flight.
I am going back home.

Satish Verma

04 August, 2016

Unlikely

Seasoned,
a red hibiscus
will ask for a white name―

in winter. Like drinking
night, under the moon
for a torn meniscus.

How far was the skyline?
The snow wants to reach
the ultimate blue.

Water cries for a
beautiful weep for the sun.

Satish Verma

The Fabrication

What you would not give,
age opens
and eats you.

Finally, the fly ash
was liberated. It carries the
memories of burns, in furnace
that was life.

No android will fight
the proxy war of flesh. The cinnamon―
body will write the elegy
on sandstone.

The bronzed face, now
reflects the pain of earth.

Let the hymns stitch the life
without needles.

Satish Verma

03 August, 2016

Deep Tragedies

Life plays the tricks.
You become a meteor-
a streak of light, in the almond eyes
of a god.


I don; t like the grey areas.
Can you become fearless
and confess the guilt of drinking
the mercury? Blisters had
appeared on your face red and blue.


Was it a pure fault?
Mother earth smiles.When buried
alive thirty below the mound of lies
you remained alive.


Dehydrated, you speak
the truth and spill out the
false teeth.Your mind separates
from the heart and blood stains emerge.

Satish Verma

Fencing

Scouring, the unmarked
silences―
for the invisible executions.

My name was
on top, for exclusion
from the list.

Now you can read the
applicant's account
under the sun's fault.

A thrill of terror
runs through the buds.
A celebration will stop the words.

There was no other
way, to know the pink of
a dying rose.

Satish Verma

02 August, 2016

No Banality

Completely eaten up by
coherent light;
the dark niche smiles.

Your collect the toadstools
under a pine.
Butterfly will not need a siton.

You breathe tumultuously
heaving up like Himalaya.
A croc has taken a girl.

Satish Verma

Show Me Your Jewel Box

Not reaching somewhere,
I was not today,
what I was.

You seek a hand
for a handshake, and I watch
the dirt gathering
on the nails.

Sky does not give you
an award.The soot
collects on the windows.

The blue skulls dance
to defy the earth.No forehead
was formed.How would you
read the destiny?

I swear, I did not fathered
the deity in a-
monotheist gathering.
A black hijab covers
the moon.

Satish Verma

01 August, 2016

Unending Story

In the dust
from the dust. I will see your
face daily,
in between the spaces
in between the hunger―
against the wall, where you were
asked to stand erect
before...

The clock was moving without
hands. I will hear only the
tick, in dark, like the regular
heartbeats.

Ultimately the space wins. We start
moving apart. The distance increases.
Echo becomes dull and
then acoustics fail.

Only the specks now speak.
Each spot was a name
was somebody, was a living being.

Satish Verma

Paralyzed

Ask the queen of night,
who was more brutal
than the crucible.

All it took was a change in
a single drop,
and you become a beast
from an angel.

The unthinkable, was
possible. You can execute
the extended family of a dove
by sending a black crow.

The rivals will engage
the history. I have stopped
reading the dates.

Satish Verma