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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Wayward Son
Silent go the dead
on the moon,
to know the secret of its smile.
Did we know the ending of leads?
The dream within the thoughts?
Silent moves the trembling hand
to print its signature on the heart.
what is so tragic about life?
The memory of bruises or attachment?
We always talked about cleanliness
of language, of lending beauty to words,
when hate and anger brought on the
ugly nuances.
Somebody revises the text,
Tongue tastes the skin,
I start counting my failures
and my books.
Silent stands the mother
for the wayward son.
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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Singing Dust
Bring out your integrity
genesis is imploding
in the murderous womb.
Multilinear mutinies have started
in red blooms
igniting the sky.
An old woman walks on the street
eating the shadows of sun.
The king will give her a gift of moon.
How the earth has been flattened
by the pawns of Resurrection?
Life has never been the same.
Purely undone for the death
milk of silence in dark.
The cow is sitting on the singing dust.
Fear was not me I was listening
the wheezing sound of changing winds.
The snakes are coming out of the trenches.
poem by Satish Verma
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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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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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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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A Cracked Visit
The other sex was stapled,
I started unfolding the secret:
what was static and who was silent.
I searched, therefore I was lost
before the end of journey.
The stench of grafting was taking over.
The incendiary recce was carried out
to shut out the voice of the street
in the melting snow.
Lake will find the woods for disquieting
sleep of muse under the blue-lipped moon,
and I will face my night.
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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Many Namesakes
Boots in air
an elite brain hangs out
from the tall tears.
It does not search an exit.
Time moves out
with a murder in eyes.
Leading a spartan life
in a lair, in tune
with absolutely zilch.
A sexy mouth mimes
for a glittering tree.
Parakeets were coming in swarms.
Can you believe, he was
in a hit list
of a gliding moon?
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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Flickering Dream
It was your
integrity
at the time of ubiquitous pain
of separation, you want to move the home
away from home
coming
to terms with the trauma
your shadow was not following you
playing dead
nuzzling the earth, racing to fill
the void, entering the truthlessness
this world
of violence, of mayhem, of self-betrayal,
the flags are not able to cover the nudity
poem by Satish Verma
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Time To Answer
This wake, I owed it to you, my defining moment:
for the raw melding, of life imprisonement
and death behind the bars. The sin had
seeped slowly in the foundations. A blurred view
of the caravan passing on the shifting sand
of quarter-century; the devastation had turned
black in smug oasis, the victim will not
become virgin again. Blind dead will monitor
the course of grievers. On to her tongue
I leave the endless stars and you will forget
the bull-dosed windows and weeping walls
of incaracerated house where the daily meals
were sex and rape; the strange shadows
of crime and pardon are breaking now
in blue sky after the defeating moon.
• After hearing the verdict on Josef Fritzl on 19th March 09
poem by Satish Verma
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Blankscape
Chasing the embedded sex of the moon
you torched the sun
by the stares of dead
and turned yourself into a stone
of steps. For survival?
I knew the gravel, the water
therefore cried inside.
Navigating in swathes of tristesse
makes you insane. Let us split the god
open, and find out the meaning of life.
The missed beats demand more blood, more
slavery. Bivalent limbs become untrue
to heart. I was late in coming.
You too!
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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Outrageous
Everybody was half-naked on the trail
of curves. Braindead. Emptied thought.
A single vacant look.
“Why me? ” I ask. Stay stupid in the crowd. Looking
at the moon, indulgent. Plucking the nector from
knobs of naked flames.
No coming back from days of unknowing
the secrets of unskopen words. A cry stifles
in the throat of a prayer.
A moon was found on a dump!
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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The Target
In a love triangle,
I move out of the center
to find a boat.
Locked in a sperm
a messanger becomes a brute.
Who will draw the circle
on the mercy petition?
This was a curse on the bed
which will not go to sleep for a whore.
The stings. Everytime you
open the mouth, you spurt
out the barbs, I walk into fire.
The kill. It was a perfect
landing. Wounds will never
heal. The beach remains dry.
poem by Satish Verma
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Denuding
Wearing a skin
where flesh had melted
in blankness.
The moon was sitting
on window
parting the curtains
The sunset
accepts the death
as final verdict
Small scholars
will find out the pain
of molesting.
Estrogen untamed
on street
rises in arches.
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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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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