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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Related quotes
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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Helmeted Version
Will the shouts work
on blood seeds in climate of conflicts?
Winter was shrinking.
Give me a hand.
I am going to invite clouds softly.
Let the drumming start.
War has broken out
on many fronts
for a god, for the grains
and for the golden gates.
Where shall we plant
the sacred tulsi?
You need a holy soil for that.
The transliteration of a famished lake
throws a foul smell.
Will you be able to walk
on the ice again?
Outside the climate of change?
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
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Coupling
In the tiny truths behind the hidden
words and blood streaked cheeks, you
drink ozone in deep layers. I will count
all my sins and light the candles in a row.
On the pillow of moon, night slept in half-slumber.
I tendered an apology
and wrote a new poem. It was not a rebuke
of stars.
This was my ad lib before the sun rise
and roses opening the blood conversations
with the grand stings. The wrapped hunger
starts wailing.
poem by Satish Verma
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Gestures
A killer moon
blinks
in a mating dance.
Smothered by kisses
frugal night
seethes with anger.
In synchronized,
house of limbs -;
the pink underside.
Fireflies
lost the way
between light and dark.
Of sunflowers
and a nude
lies a tale.
poem by Satish Verma
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One Runaway Religion
Ignite the barren clay, I need
some rare elements
to tie a thread to the moon.
Upstaging the sun.
Not aspirational he was stripped
to become radical
like the dark blood of a white soul.
Pentadactylous was losing the big toes
under the burning skies
of unmindful eyes. The system
was collapsing. One premature
innocence dies defore the guilt
was proved, in the howling night of terror.
He unrolls the thighs to show the stitched
corn. The seeds step out to prove
the adolescence of crime.
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
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Blindfolded
A dented version of an old grudge,
blackened lips with an elite song,
your relentless search ends in
a terminal shock, nursing a green wound.
That anguish was still there, and the wild anger
sprawled on hidden fractures, false teeth,
and twisted spy glasses. Sky falling silent
in terrible gloom of centuries.
Blindfolded we are led for a ceremony
of total dedication, drinking opiates
from the cupped hands of a silver god,
with alien innocence and silent submission.
I stare at the changing colors of world
shifting like summer dunes,
dancing on the graves, in dripping
dew of midnight moon, salt of tears.
poem by Satish Verma
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Failed Immortality
Blaze was coming to terms
with pyrotechnic cascade.
The dignity was emotionally drained out.
The persona turned to anima,
to find out the answer
for quality verdict.
A rogue mission had flattened
the brain. The piano man was dead
and climate was changing.
The safe, warm and wrapped up
seed, hiding in the mouth of a
drowned moon exploded in the silent
sea of telling thoughts.
A trembling tongue will spurt
out translated earth.
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
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Love & Pain
Perhaps you know,
that you do not know,
the moment of truth is here,
and we are at the cross roads.
Night is without a cloud
and crescent moon is questioning a star.
Ghost of strayed peace
has slided back in dark.
Pure chemistry of love is boiling.
Planting the tender flowers on lips
I find nothing. I think I will go
for a new lover.
Strawberry was your choice,
but I always craved blue berries.
Pulpy red and blue black were teeth apart.
Your eyes are unreadable,
a watery grave of pain.
Something impossible should happen
Poetry is waiting for symbiosis.
poem by Satish Verma
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Poetry
The flesh was putting up a brave dialogue.
I was willing to play the game.
Stunned, shocked, pleasantly sore
basking in heat of silk throat,
I asked the needles to go ahead
and stitch the wounds without loss of blood.
Wasps were waiting to light the candles,
so that they can attack the pink skin.
The fruit bats were hanging upside down;
time for fellatio. A boundary was submerged
in deluge of anger. It was a white night
for an ice cream cone. God bless the queen.
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
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Tremulous Light
In my sky your blackbird
a lamp without a light
making a nest of moon
where the fireflies will meet.
A mirror breaks my dream
I paint my graveyard with blood
of a rose which felled a tattoo
from the morning dew.
They make love under a -
cloud in shimmering dark
of vanishing youth; One day someone
will claim the fallen vial.
poem by Satish Verma
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Blind Walls
Icons of evolution and
loud men made a circle
of nihility, leaping high,
splashing the black perfume.
Nicotine reclaimed ne plus ultra.
Lurching thrusts reached nowhere.
Dirty fingers held the prosperity.
The dialogue of root
and earth started a nameless fire.
Hunger stunned the leaves,
brutalized by unmanaged truths.
The sting operated in dark.
Let going the lights,
phantoms were starving.
I saw my face for the first time.
I accept my responsibility
for closed drapes.
Doors were banging in terror
and there were sparks on the roof.
The blind walls squirmed.
It was time for your roadmap
to show the lines,
sign the winds.
poem by Satish Verma
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Raging Moon
Homecoming under the moon
devoid of pain.
When did the clock turned back?
You are becoming a child.
My journey opens
in a dark wound.
A promise to walk blindfolded,
when only the footfalls are audible.
The distance between the homes
was increasing.
Your own shadow becomes a stranger:
mystery of defining the life.
Living among cannibals,
aides ready to drag your carcass
unfolding your truth
falling in dust.
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
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Small Talk
Surge in hidden chastity
enters the torch but the enemy
was within.
Brown clouds over the black carbon,
glaciers were melting;
the assault rifle stands alone in snow.
This was not ignorance,
a purposeful denial of white truce
in the jungle of lizards.
I would go where nobody wants
to tread in night. The hanging years
of marriage gone wrong.
O my God, tiger at the door,
demanding a new babe every moon.
The flesh will extract its own blood.
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
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Holy Wings
The twisted moon
moved horizontally,
plunged in cleavage
of dark trees
eating the stars.
Aloneness; midnight dream,
faces the wall of nails.
Scratches on the flesh
blood oozing.
The benign end.
Put off the lights,
it helps to think clearly.
Drape the mercy of night.
Snake was hissing, may strike.
A cramp will kill the joy.
The fish will be welded
to a candle.
poem by Satish Verma
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Fire And Straw
Lovers of death were on prowl:
nothing was finished.Smart words
were bouncing back. Quotes by the fire
had stripped down the carnage. More
bombs in courtyard and hope was confronting
death. Few branded names were causing
rift in the ranks and I must forget
about the waterboarding too.
After the outrage you would not trust
them to govern themselves. The towns were
still sleeping accustomed to the knocks
on the doors. The water birds were not
coming this winter. Smoke and fire. Sound
and fury with flashbacks of flood of red streams.
I was tumbling down beyond challenge.
With message of menace they will do no wrong!
SATISH VERMA
SALT PLUNGED 17 January 2009
Seizing the fire after hidden sorrow
predicted the synchronized slaughter of
the river, bodies were being ditched
secretly. The sparkle of waves was murderous.
Blue wings of tall dangers dodged
between war and hatred. The golden
face of a child was smeared with blood.
You carry a moth to be burned on a flame.
The black rose hangs in balance,
against the red cross. A sea of white ants
was entering into a microchip to eat the
months of prayer. Nation’s crimes were
pinned for troops to turn the gold
into dust. Catch my hand if you grieve
for the lost mother carrying the child
of century for burial.
poem by Satish Verma
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Star Struck
i, thirst for nudging
the butter lamp to peep inside
the dark of a Shiva crater
of human suffering,
between your pain and my blood
there was ancient history,
where will you go now, no
light has touched you so far
the moon takes a bath inside
a sleeping volcano of perfect
aches, staring in the sad eyes
of a fauna
brace your window and taste
your memory, lift the quivering hands
to welcome the blank pages
of future
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
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On The Brink
I was trying to communicate
the poverty of words.
We were moving in circles.
Dark figures-
afraid of each other.
What was a shame -
in restraints
of narcissism? You are
not going to take a dip
in opaque waters.
A conceptual withdrawl
from the acrimony of hills.
Night was very cool but
moon will not come down
and grass will not go up.
I will never be generous
in jokes of a monstrous
nose. The stink was awful
but roses were white and
the meaning had no confines.
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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Infinity
Drowning in my blood
the vampire had
the lapse of consciousness.
I embraced the night
without moon.
Why does it happen
day in and day out?
You allowed the blood sucking
which was the choice for unanswering
of unpleasent questions.
I survive in death
staining the shirt,
keeping the footsteps waiting.
I had kissed a light
falling on the squirming dark.
poem by Satish Verma
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Unending
In downy pink I watch you go
my sun,
at night you will pluck moon flowers.
In half-moon eclipse
the morning glory will wake me up
in dew, alighting whole night
on the rose branch. I still smell
your lips. The head aches in
singing dark.
Welcome again, my ghosts of new year.
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
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