Crisscross
When speed overtakes you, incision on
black marble crashes. Before the moonrise
your bygone sister falls in your arms
crying.
Babydeath had jumped from the second
floor to meet the earthquake of icy
forgetfulness in wild fire. A landslide
wanted to know, who was to be blamed?
Wind is split on two counts.One was
the lazy sun and second were the clouds
in absence. An evil eye has a theme of
breeding resentment of withdrawl from a romantic hug.
Tossed in a deathbin, a snail tries to
climb on a hot wall of bonelight.
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
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Secret Wake
savage
running under the moon
selling the night
sanitizing
the hands
after the killing
truth
withdrawl
vaginae still inviolate
seeds wiped off
from the face of earth
ethnic cleaning
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
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Splitting
Touched by moon, I pick up
a black rose,
to return the debt.
Very high
the fire, returns in my eyes.
I start burning in your arms.
The parting,
crawls in the bed
I cannot speak nor cry.
Why it had to happen
after sunset,
when the leafless tree was waiting?
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
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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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Cannot Say
On a hollow path
you had failed
carrying the loaves of bread
in biting cold of politics
scaring the lips.
I was standing near
the dawn in praise of dark.
The sharks were coming.
Here goes the marble floor
for drowning in black blood.
The fire between the palaces
was eating the golden thighs.
I think flowers have gone
to drink from the little ponds
near the escaped souls
of scribes and guns.
poem by Satish Verma
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Crack Of Dawn`
The king
made a fun of our poverty.
Marble faced girls always thought,
wearing black scarves –
sweeping the floor of white mausoleum.
You made a death
a loving eternity.
We die daily
in the face of old shine.
Who shoots a peacock
on the tree?
I mourn for the blue peace,
let the clouds come.
Who remains unhurt
unpained, when the night calls?
I seize a moon
to enter the crack of dawn.
poem by Satish Verma
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Prognosis
Did you foresee it? It was coming.
The freaked guilt of failed attempt
to get yourself kissed by a flame in the
androgynous temptation of dark.
One legitimate delay in dying of moon’s
tears? The weather had fizzled out during wild
winds and the summer was slowly starting a
whispering campaign against the clouds.
My enemy for sweet revenge will not
halt the attack.A bouncing vision will
start the fire engulfing the singing
trees of drenched art. The floods of intimatcies
were coming.
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
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Meltdown
Unveiled,
the moon will find you
after morose beginning
of becoming – me
Homophobia creeps in,
beyond the condemnation,
the incompleteness.
You walk straight in the arms
of contradiction, confusion
smearing the wall
with your crimson, nihilistic words.
Every other person
a demi – god
stands on your fears, sends whispers
down your ears.
To abdicate the colleagues
of dawn.
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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Ressurection
The wind writes a name on the clouds
and sun wipes out the letters.
This game continues daily.
coming into life after every death.
Exhausted I want to believe
and make up my mind to go
for a new birth.
The resentment has accumulated
all the life
against the futility of winning a race.
In the end you reach no where.
A void impossible to fill.
The years monitored, lay waste
something to die.
poem by Satish Verma
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Lake Song
Nothing makes or breaks now.
I will not know you
on the lake. The clouds and shoreline shudder.
There was no speck of endurance. The wind
falls with agonizing thud.
The dusk was hoisting the white waves.
Time to make peace.
Moon will make an appearance
with a veiled threat.
A bleached skeleton on the sand
wriggles to become alive
like the bitterness.
After a midnight death of a battered
probe, it was time to give a final call.
A fire will freeze like a rose
in the wraps of black waters.
The folk singer was coming.
poem by Satish Verma
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Enormous Guilt
Cannot stare
coming on terror radar. Every night there
was Celsius rise in deadpeace. The climate
debt of a dark cloud was changing.
What is going to happen, tell me blindfolded.
We have a never or nothing attitude. The
roads were on edge, grazing under a blood
spinning midnight lamp, like a whipped
up cream of convenient truths. A subterranean
anger was banging against the wailing
wall. We did little in our synchronized
failure. Nobody was going to blink.
A tooth was smashed by a flying missile
of a homegrown myth. The glacier was
shy of a black fire. A holy moon becomes
opaque in white winter.
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
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In Chains
Listening,
to inner voice,
peeling off the hurts,
hammered memories.
You dropp the answer
and throw back the question.
Something was totally amiss
Absence overtakes the presence.
The shadow was more frightening.
No movement,
A lull before a flash,
then explosion. The limbs will fly.
The ending of thought
or beginning of emptiness?
A green death starts thinking.
poem by Satish Verma
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Yellow Face
When life falls apart
you do not pick up the shadow.
It is the shadow, which
gathers you in arms.
Little things make a difference
a diety comes at your door.
And a gift lies broken
a little bread was black.
poem by Satish Verma
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Naïve Innocence
O pink horse, O timeless sun,
run on my body, run. Black magic
had pierced the needles into my heart.
Lying on nails to wrest a superearth
from amnesty, I start bandaging the bruised
ethos of my native conscience –
on the spike of a violence, refusing
to give up my home to fire, tending
the voiceless flora of a virgin rock.
The questions stand up, against
the black walls of silence. The blue birds
are going to fly in white desert.
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
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Let Me Go Into Snow
Audacity to live with your demons,
putting up a fake love belief,
who was the time,
of that dark night? Distinctly alive to what
I was not just putting up the shades of death
into nothingness of peace in war.
Searching for self in capacious hope,
was it the half-light of a moon,
slipped on the words of a hoisted grief?
A wild truth was better than silken ribbons
of fabricated lies. I am tired of playing
games on the turf of synthetic desires.
It would be time again, for what was time,
encapsulated in crazy dialogues of taking on
a chaste enemy. I will give my life for
a bright red rose in absence of sun, drenched
in fire and burning in dew drops, for the
flowering of melting snow.
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
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Eternal Drift
A hidden lump was revealed
in annual ritual.
You flung open the gates-
to take away the regal pain.
Was it a reprisal
for a purple nail?
Withdrawl was threatening.
In the line of fire
comes the guilt.
The suicide in the goddess
womb? Celebrate if
you pull out.
Floating on the drifting
threat. The welts will sing
the erotica.
poem by Satish Verma
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Irony Of Author
In the absence of a consenting moon half
my night was in disarray, the density of poems
was draining out the grape wine from the eyes.
This amphitheater of your life: where you
are spectator and you are a player, past
the tears and past the happiness.
Find out the lost baby, where we slept.
A crying bundle on the tracks of bones.
You cannot carry the outstretched alms, need to stop
the train of thoughts.
Green boys were hiding in their sleeves.
Did you perform your role well in speaking
your dialogue on the stage and give a loud
laughing call?
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
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One Silver Bowl
Will you save me
when I take the call of the lake?
The swishing depth was inviting me
for a plunge in the purple pool.
How deep was the pain of a mountain?
The domain was again ailing
with subtle rumors of
a massive landslide.
An escaped love of a thorn
was splittimg open the embrace
of me and my mask. Totally denuded,
a face was dusting off all the self-made
marks of inflictions.
Will you walk with me now
up to the stormy night, where I have
a house of candles keeping a vigil
for a coffin of unflowered seeds?
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
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A Lone Warrior
You have put up the price on your shirt.
I have started seeing the return
of the death instinct. The curtain falls
on profile of joy, of giving away.
A solid swelling of clotted ego
of antimatter shows frugality
in spending of laughter. It was
a total consumption of beautiful lips.
That was that, of hollowness of globes
and golden peacocks. A seed of mildew
implants a kiss on the nakedness of greed.
How far the want will go in dark
for the scent of transgression?
Today I am going to meet a blind angel.
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
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Dirt Roads
It was a mediocre crowd.
You wanted to touch-
unblemished,
ordinary thing.
After he was drunk
he threw the blanket
and started,
a hate crime.
There was dark smoke
without fire. You can draw
a frame around the singed face.
I will not taste the blood.
The death will come again
to find the lover, after he
jumped from the bridge. There
were thousand ways to seek revenge.
poem by Satish Verma
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