Exporting
That kind of kiss and runoff.
Why don’t you concede to the fraud?
It was a haunted dilemma,
kidnapping of a verdict.
Dinosaurs were wiped out
by a clean sweep of a meteorite
long back, millions of years. Now,
present ones, tiny reptiles
still survivng in water, air and
earth by active faults.
The great Indian Bustard was again
sighted in a poor man’s field.
Are you a moon friendly?
I am dispossessing all my domestic clouds.
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
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The Water Ways
The Water Ways
By Lori Triggs
Copyrighted June 14,2007
Earth was here first…
The rivers, lakes, creeks and oceans was born…
So the water was plangent in the crevices on the earth…
Than the plants with trees was rebirth…
Now came the dinosaurs that lasted millions of years…
Than came the volcanoes that wipe them out…
The reptiles came and still here on a slow decline…
So the mammals with the fish been around for centuries,
But for how long can we say…
Animals with birds been around since dooms day….
You notice they slowly diminishing…
Humans was put on earth last…
They consume in excess in
Water, plants, trees,
Reptiles, mammals, fish,
Animals & birds for money, food even to make a profit call greed…
Human have did toxics
The water with the lands around the earth…
So have they did with reptiles, mammals, fish, animals and birds…
You notice they slowly diminishing…
Humans they are in abounded…
They never die out only cause more harm than good…
They where put on earth by mistake…
So they should be the first to go…
Only one dropp of water…
The ground dried up so no water
Is their a plant or tree to spear to see…
Not a reptile to be seen…
The mammals with fish vanished…
So now the animals and birds are gone…
All is now is dying humans…
Died for excess wasting the earth away.
poem by Lori Triggs
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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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Puzzles
hopscotch, retrieve a pebble
from the lake,
sitting under a tall tree
i will wait
for leaves to fall
on water;
i will see through my seeds
a relief of roses,
overnight
in the soccer field
tiny mushrooms
popped up, wearing white caps
to see the game –
turning the pages of a book
opens a museum,
i come on you
not accusative
SATISH VERMA
poem by Satish Verma
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Abdication
It was a domestic pain,
when we came apart in boots and helmets.
Taking the shine away, moon gave up the fight
on lake, against the clouds, a sniper
intuitingly, started a homicidal blasting
to start the rains.
An ode to sepia needs scrutiny;
cuttlefish had a second thought. No faith
permits the slaughter of septa. Walls were squinting
to see better. A square root will find the squall,
between the breaths. Beyond arousal of oceans
a shaken, surreal, blast from a craven rifle.
Satish Verma
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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I Was Always Angry
Whole world hides
in your liquid eyes,
I need to return to my consciousness,
to change my verse.
The dry air has wiped out the beautiful words
sitting on the edge, of a meaning
I write a new song.
Discovering your forgotten self,
was a pain,
I always avoided.
Years touched me softly,
on the temples in vain.
Dumb I was with grief, threading a pile of memories,
to know my other self.
Somewhere a god smiles on me.
God of my mud & water,
wide open like a father,
who never died.
The moon slaughters my clouds.
I was always angry,
with my odd appearance.
poem by Satish Verma
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Vibrations
The battlelines were drawn.
While drinking the sun
I set myself ablaze
A hooded dilemma
of his kindness
starts boiling in chaotic dissonance.
A backlash stops a self-search.
Who am I and why do I belong
in the spinning of descent.
There were flames in every home
and biting dust of the moon.
Where the man will go.
The birth’s print and death’s answer
had the bidding game.
I was standing in the middle.
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
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Dark Language
Wanted to wear the grief uncrying,
sitting on the bank, counting the waves,
watching the swaying of earthen lamps.
There was a little water on the moon,
charged atoms settling in the lap of a sponge.
The water becomes the moon,
floating on goat’s milk.
My descent starts to find the truth.
Where the water has gone from the eyes?
The mirrors always tell the lie.
The headless body writhes in the dust,
words change the author of a murder.
A crowd finds a knife only.
Once again a century weeps!
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
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Moods
coming out of the frame,
in evening without a sun, unflinchingly,
he said, he was talking to his father
daily, in his mind, who was in grave,
(when he was on ventilator)
about a lesson of deception, about the things
evolved in endogamy,
cherubic, it seems, but there was water on the moon too,
in solitude, on gravel, under the rocks;
he kept on washing his hands for hours,
to remove the dirt and stigma, gathered on shaking
the lamps around the dark and then he started
collecting the flowers from the embroidery
of clouds
do not cry in the afternoon
SATISH VERMA
poem by Satish Verma
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Crossbars
The depression,
human brand was trapped.
They were talking about
the nukes.
To annihilate
the earth. It was elemental,
I said. An ardent
fan of moon.
A lark asks
who will survive?
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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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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Millions of water drops
drops of water
millions of drops
Falling down the rocks
Millions of water drops
Glittering in the sun
Shining like pearls
Millions of water drops
Ending as a river
Finding way to ocean
Millions of water drops
Creating childrens happiness
Laughter and joyfullness
Millions of water drops
Soon will tide reach
White long shores
Millions of water drops
Animating Waves
into forming caves
Millions of water drops
splittering from above
till reaching top of the hill
Millions of water drops
Without them no sound
No whispers of the living
Millions of water drops
Watch the clearness
From crest to earth
Millions of water drops
For tribe’s best
Beware of waste
Millions of water drops
Treasured should they be
As belonging to all humanity
(march 2008, Switzerland)
poem by Morhardt Carmen Mencita Monoi Angel
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Lame Duck
A lame duck re-emerges
from water of life,
after paying for night of clouds.
The sex determines
the economy of a nation and democracy
writes the future of a man.
Who was bankrupt
in poor country of rich people?
You were the boss of a pavement.
The helplessness of a poetic justice
was writ large on your face.
A dog was throwing the bone for the poor.
A fierce battle was raging
between the sun and the moon.
The stars have eloped with the winds.
poem by Satish Verma
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Cuddling
between unequals
to and fro
beastly joy of horror
you want to press the trigger,
timebomb, your laughter,
and sneaky mind
restless syndrome of legs
you cannot stand on tiptoes
to review the fall
from the clouds
the moon overshot
the endless night
sun rises gently
on the window
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
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Body Script
Does it stir you,
a body bag?
Journey of million years
stops here,
decoding the numbers.
A humming bird
inflight catches a dilemma
before the sun sets on the
whirring wings.
The moon will never be the same.
Hanging by a thread
a suicide bomber memorializes
the unhealing land.
Who will cry
when he is gone?
poem by Satish Verma
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Virtuosity
The wind was talking
about the fever of thoughtless verdict
of a wrong moral
for a clean exit.
In these times of conflict
during green burial, you will not
start a dialogues for fear of
annoying the priest.
The sun was digging out the
cotyledons from the reactors,
the tainted water will take the revenge
on shocked sky.
A hole is dug in the heart
of scavengers. They will not
find the healthy food any more
in this shirtless crowd.
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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Oldie
One day I will meet you
on a dirt track
and ask about back yard
where moon lives.
Will you give me a kiss of the clock?
I have forgotten the back years.
Autumn now takes care of my assets
and I keep on erasing the names.
O, harvest moon, don’t go away.
I was playing with the black thoughts
eating the yellow grass,
learning the alphabet of white pain.
It was a crystal midmoon, dark animal,
who has taken away all the tears.
poem by Satish Verma
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Occupation
Leaving the stains behind
I am moving to a new home
O mother
to wear the sun.
The black moon
had been stalking me for years
O mother
for a pink romance lifting the clouds.
Though, I will not come back
ever, in the valley of skins
O mother
yet I will remember your beloved night.
Nebulous was the transit
to sleep without beds.
O mother
How long these protests will continue?
poem by Satish Verma
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