By The Words
Always he was picking up and counting the pins
to distill the essence of rainbows
and find the symmetries of elementary
laws and eating leftover words from the table.
The terrorists had wired his house and he was
not aware of it. The wrinkles on the face
for the bridge destroyed, would not bring
peace within. Times were different, icy and slippery.
He hated only himself for the failure of ships
to sail through the scope of explosions
rage and tears. The madness of unchaste
happenings submerging the cognition.
His tongue was heavy, hands writing the epitaph
on air. The bald eagle scoops a bride,
slices the breasts for the green stigmata
of liberation. Ajmer, INDIA
SATISH VERMA
poem by Satish Verma
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Splendor
While writing a poem
I make a blood hole
in my hand.
A walnut face
opens the wrinkles
to find a jade green nephrite
for colicky times.
A prelude to
a death sentence
for profane thoughts.
You think, you can postpone
insomnia of the longest night.
The insects were waiting in wings
to crawl on your beloved body.
poem by Satish Verma
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What Has To Stay
Like I want to erase the fear
before I light a remote fire
in the blue veins.
Actually this was the crisis of self pride
in manic depression
seeking the anonymity of toes
tracing the footpath.
Becoming a paper-boat
in the winds of flesh and fancies
on the choppy sea of death.
No spinal pain for candles
to burn in courtyard
of sunken faith.
Red grapes in a tiny bowl
leap to lips of sun
for sons and daughters. Ajmer, INDIA
SATISH VERMA
poem by Satish Verma
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Black Hole
Will you walk with me
on the banks of a silent and invisible river?
Not paleowater eating the earth
but a collider, flowing in conscience.
One more dip with epidural
to stay away from awakening,
to start climbing on the burning tower
of truth.
Planting lethal swords in the hands
of earthlings. The essence of memory,
throws counter-questions. Strange happenings.
I am afraid of a black hole.
poem by Satish Verma
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Disclaimer
A brush with pain of chest
starts recalibrating the fog of eyes.
World has come a long way
from a child’s brain to prepare
an indigenous bomb
for a roaring ascent.
Where my son, you want to go
in trees of words? The temperatures
are rising to widen the scope
of violence. Every one was
claming to be a terrorist
for bringing the peace on earth.
let the party begin.
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
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Pink Reminder
It slithers, the tongue
trying to find
the rage on cold words.
A window
shuts on fire for a deliberate
withdrawl from conflicts.
The virgin iron
becomes a corpse
under the golden
amnesia of hot greens.
The colors are changing
on face
and the silky grass of paradise.
poem by Satish Verma
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Minacia
Dismentaling the menace
very discreetly, the matchmakers
walked over the hurricane to bring
back showers.
Unreachable, moon was smiling
in the blue sky. The maidens were busy
in observing a fast to get a muse.
A million stars went on counting the sins.
Innocent milk will fill up the breasts
of waiting mothers whose children
were coming back from the front. The
shadows were changing with weather.
Inertia of dust turns into a sculptor,
with eyesless sight. A mask falls
from a reclining god.
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
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Crowd At The Morgue
A new planet was taking birth.
Stem cells were coming out of
obedience to carnality.
For resuscitation from kiss of death
faith was at its best in its witchcraft.
Complete blood count failed,
to diagnose the strange madness.
It was a whirling chemistry.
The transmitters merely took in
the sin, the insanity.
A huge crowd collected at the morgue
to collect the severed limbs,
after the death of a sun.
Picking the scars of dark
and slaughtered tomorrow.
The rage of sunrise will come back.
One day the clouds will burst open. Yes
the death will come as a bride.
poem by Satish Verma
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Pork Fried-Rice
Pork fried-rice,
Eating your way to death!
And from Mattithyah to Revelation.
The specimen,
Of a tale and a tail!
But upon the two wings of a great eagle i will fly away.
Of the sale of a sail and,
Of the life under a microscope;
You are eating your way to death.
A bale of a bail and the eating of pork,
But heaven and earth will pass away and the laws will still stand!
And it will be like a puzzle to you all.
Essau hated Yaaqob like the pale of a pain but,
With your rhythmic contractions and your tympanitic abdomen;
So come out of this world and live for the truth only.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Medals And Awards
In a school of murder a hub of
terror survives.
An acid attack on face
captures the contradictions of first nervous countdown.
Step aside my truth, my tears
are under siege. The schizophrenic
will draw a landscape
of falling earth.
Tonight a visual poem will come alive
on a dirty screen of life.
Words were written like mercy
on the hands.
Why the face wears no smile?
Hard core pornography of blueberries survives
amidst the shooting and explosions.
The nymphs were waiting in the heaven!
poem by Satish Verma
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Humming Night
The enlightment drops words, things
I am at peace with the light,
the sand, the river.
The thought of non-being is subtle,
touches a cord.
Hours slip, silicon hardens.
Grains of truth move towards essence.
The thought of emptiness
was very powerful
I sit by myself, swallow a stunned voice.
My hands become white.
Inside of me was a book
holding a past. I hid nothing: my faultline.
It was a strange poverty.
I could not plug it,
a hole in memory.
The voices drip.
A moon-knife slices my room.
Far off a poem drifts, in blue nothingness.
The day was very ill
and night again humming
a tune of rising sun.
poem by Satish Verma
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Response
The myopic tongues
of tall trees, going downhill
to find the roots of four-letter words of dead,
unspoken, but sung in dark.
They had come out of the skin.
River was flowing on emotional track,
with heavy eyelids. Father said,
he would never die.
Your unborn children were tasting
the salt of the road still untaken. The pain
in the neck was grizzlier,
when the sun was retreating in virgin hole.
Moreover, the wrinkles will tell the tale
of truant hands who would not
play with the silken adolescence
of a delirious moon.
poem by Satish Verma
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Mourning The Deluge
Something was not polite in signs.
The smell of incarcerated bed of gods
was floating down.
A subdued shadow of black moon
was climbing on the window. And each
house had offered a son, to rage
a war of retribution. Malice towards
one and everybody, they were ready to cut the
hands who were holding the book.
Out of the ore comes out the gold, when
you use mercury. Vacant eyes have the
veils of tears. Dampness was melting the bones.
The mud on the face, a gift of birthday.
poem by Satish Verma
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Between Hunger And Escape
Something was not polite in signs.
The smell of incarcerated bed of gods
was floating down.
A subdued shadow of black moon
was climbing on the window. And each
house had offered a son, to rage
a war of retribution. Malice towards
one and everybody, they were ready to cut the
hands who were holding the book.
Out of the ore comes out the gold, when
you use mercury. Vacant eyes have the
veils of tears. Dampness was melting the bones.
The mud on the face, a gift of birthday.
poem by Satish Verma
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The Bully
How it is that –
at shrine while saying prayers
sex was on your mind?
You hated the betrayal and emptiness of life.
but still tuned to sweet indulgence.
And then a sudden flash back
slaps in your face,
and you want to commit suicide.
Afraid of hurting your pride
I did’t fulfil my promise of wiping your tears
in a sprint of flinching ache.
It is night now
The words have a peculiar burnt-out smell
of the road,
as if they were smouldering
in hot ashes of peace.
poem by Satish Verma
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Sea Of Madness
Out in the street somebodys crying
Out in the night the fires burn
Maybe tonight somebodys crying
Reached the point of no return
Oh - my eyes they see but I cant believe
Oh - my heart is heavy as I turn my back and leave
Like the eagle and the dove
Fly so high on wings above
When all you see can only bring you sadness
Like a river we will flow
On towards the sea we go
When all you do can only bring you sadness
Out on the sea of madness
Somewhere I hear a voice thats calling
Out in the dark there burns a dream
You got to hope when you are falling
To find the world that you have seen
Oh -
Oh -
Its madness
The sun dont shine
On the sea of madness
There aint no wind to fill your sails
Madness when all you see can only bring you sadness
On towards the sea we go...
song performed by by Iron Maiden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Strange
All night November,
I was searching the vulnerable
lips after loosing you.
Now fingerless hands
were moving the sun-dial
away from light.
The shroud was heavy,
I would not breathe.
Give me a blue moon before dawn.
You cannot engage in
sudden withdrawl. I will
come back for a kiss.
The paper that leaves a wound,
I will not sign for the bread.
My hands had stopped trembling.
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
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Issueless
It was for a bridge:
water issue,
without a river.
We were fighting
for the tongues
on a wordless journey.
The unlucky sex
was on fire
after the explosion.
Hands off the
mouth. Life was
eating death.
The bells will
not ring today.
God was dead.
poem by Satish Verma
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Approximately
ripening on the tree
loosing erection
the redeemer comes back to orphanage
for the biggest fraud of times
we are playing with each other
hide and seek
cutting edge I plant
chrysanthemums in my esplanade
at least they give company
you know gold plus
flowers make a very potent elixir
cold-blooded sure to melt a steel
through knobs you enter
the laughing eyes would you
mind to take off the extra wrinkles
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
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Lies
Face to face, I was bewildered.
What was happening to the garden?
My body left in absent seizure;
words had destroyed a beautiful poem.
I was listening without blinking
like a blue moon
or the serene lake.
The interlocking in no-man’s-land
under a red rain,
somebody puts a hand on my shoulder
to bring out the sorrow,
the salt of my tears, sandscapes
of smooth bones.
Becoming something was music to ears
twisting the gaps.
Seeds of the brain, nude as the beach stones,
round and snug, somebody wakes the water
in the breast, kicking up the turmoil
I was nobody, nobody.
It was all lies.
poem by Satish Verma
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A Saint Between Us
He was no longer angry
writing his own epitaph.
Fighting a singular brute
without repeating himself.
Midnight. Untouchable moon
drops the ear-ring.
A mottled face worships
a ladder expressionlessly.
A monk walks past an
oversexed monkey.
A hidden agenda in end,
shows a dirty hand.
You know, I do not want
to tame an exploding -
navel. Transfixed I throw
the bottle in a sea.
One more parakeet dies
in my hands. How do I catch
a flying saucer in the
alien body.?
poem by Satish Verma
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