Flying Beard
like ether, permeating all space
mesmerizing,
he walked away, head of his enemy
in his hand,
like a trophy?
frighteningly orangish
a decapitated body shudders.
The holy war
demands its price of a joke.
The face of red and blue.
A terrible reminder of a snaky past
that kills the puppets. The hands
dance in air.
The irrepairable, pink wounds
bleed, sweat smoke
of death?
SATISH VERMA
poem by Satish Verma
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Related quotes
Dance, My Little Puppets
dance, my little puppets
dance for me
dance, my little puppets
and you shall see
dance, my little puppets
the truth you seek
dance, my little puppets
the truth i will speak
dance, my little puppets
set your soul free
dance, my little puppets
dance for me
dance, my little puppets
the truth you find
dance, my little puppets
do not hide
dance, my little puppets
dance for me
dance, my little puppets
truth is a lie, cant you see
dance, my little puppets
dance for me
dance, my little puppets
dance to see
dance, my little puppets
start to begin
dance, my little puppets
this is the end
poem by Sandy Nobody
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Vaporization
Death denial of candlelit vigil for a fallen harbor
brought the climate change for a flag which flew
at half-staff. The noose was tightening around the
open-hearted blossoms. A dead sea has started
selling its salt to land sharks.
These days I am becoming introvert. The needles
have become blind, cannot stitch the god given
sores, the private tears of a soldier wounded
at home by the hands of a friend. Missed abortion
of a truth.
I thought of lies inside her lips, my solid
mate who set my skin blue after I drank her
proffered drink of hemlock. I stripped to the
bones for a glow of death which comes when
you give away your life for a pink sun.
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
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Exchange
This road will not take you to a theme.
In wind,
a pebble was making different strokes.
Hanging stones were hiding
the music of poppies.
To fill in my glass of silver
I place the stitches in images
of naked wounds, slapping the
pink roses on lips, the shadow
of terrible interior crawling out in tears.
The incredible space between hollyhocks
bends down to pick up dead silk
of fallen monarches. The colors will
find the other side of moon
in dark, except infinity.
poem by Satish Verma
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Scarf On Head
Tangled clues
with sensuous sparring;
the incense was rising from the blue moon.
It was body’s integrity,
a lender was demanding
when lust had become prodigal.
Behind the thin veil, red eyes
stared unblinkingly
at the portrait of a nude zero.
When the light was nodding from a crown
the darkness spat on the feet
which walked on the roses.
A single thorn will not be envious
of the licking fingers.
A dropp of blood will tell the truth.
Satish Verma
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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Beauty Of Pain
Behind your face
was cleaver
releasing past poem.
The sensual milk
flows from the palm
into your lake.
Grieving for
the torn wings of pink
light.
Cruising on thighs
with eyes closed
death utters a shriek.
The eternal flame
closes on pollen
to tell a lie.
poem by Satish Verma
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Reminder
Sitting on the heap of mortals,
an angel failed. The world
was not going to change. The kill
had inspired only a naked aggression.
Not blindfolded he took the bullet
in heart to become a holy martyr.
The pretention caused no ripples.
River flowed without blood.
A rotten tooth rolls out.
Another smile spreads. Many headed
cobra strikes again. The ooze tosses out
from the broken skin. I pray for the death.
The veil lifts. The bone of ruined
Conscience juts out. A terrible reminder of crusade seeps in.
What do we want from the gods of masses,
while the time does not want to look back?
poem by Satish Verma
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Returning
You come home, sitting on my shoulders.
I bid you farewell at door. Death tiptoes in dark
before looking at the bare hands. A new concept of
ending comes out from crozier. Uncoiling has stopped.
In loincloth a truth unravels the mystery of cells. A
warm transparency. You walk around objectively,
returning the gifts to birds, bees and aspens. It
was time not to put up excuses. The wings are tired
and wind was falling.
Let the dance of nothingness start!
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
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Human Lab
Half-buried in a mud pit,
a polluter bares all, body and soul.
Hands bound, ready to be stoned
to death.
A god was going to kill a god.
A dense judgement of planet green
of an unreliable sun
scribbling a code of conduct.
My god, I will go insane.
Save my woods I say. How can
be the adam was so naked running
in a race gene altered?
My arthritic fingers again lift
a mansion of gold leaves, dissolving
the sky.
Satish Verma
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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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 Revenge
A mob rapes a moon
under the blue sky.
Then parades her half-naked body
on the streets of clouds.
Arousal of anger
devours the mate
in a nocturnal rendezvous
with a sea horse;
cuts off the head
to shake out the frozen tears
from unweeping eyes.
Life stares face to face
with death, of a star.
A slow hesistant voice
opens the layers of silence
for seeking justice.
Truth weeps making no pretention.
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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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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Fatigue Of Wasted Years
The wheels find,
the track on my body,
why do I shiver & tremble?
The night gives me the depth,
a grim reminder of realism.
The consortium of thorns,
the splinters float in my eyes.
The dignified seizure,
takes hold of your body
your mind writhes,
under the surface.
You hold head in agony.
Waking is more painful.
Is it worth that?
The biography celebrates,
the death of a god.
The negative virtue and,
upright truth clash,
in midst of worst weather.
The red tongue gives,
the hot sermons.
Fatigue of wasted years,
weigh heavily on my arms.
poem by Satish Verma
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Wounded Pride
Generation grips,
I am the street
in dysphoria.
You run, shout, the arc
bleeds, you become your enemy
that kills the alphabets
A statue was hung
upside down
to eject the violence from plastic lips.
Blood stained sidewalk
throws a challenge to send
the skins of martys.
The taste of endometrium confronts
a fortune of calories in pink
for an unconscious hood.
And the language of golden teeth
hides the backdoor flight
of a fallen god.
poem by Satish Verma
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Dragging
The Asperger syndrome: you will not speak,
you will not tell me about
fertilizer bomb. In a farmhouse blackwater
becomes a death chamber.
A toddler falls in a borewell,
you can still measure hypothermia,
the tilting of meteor saves the landfall,
stalking through the extended body.
What was the right thing in a chorus of protests
to underline the resilience of beaks and claws?
It bugs the space and diameters of arguments
about the sweep of corruption in integrities.
It is very difficult to stay being whole amidst
the broken shards of bones. The dreams were
set in stones and water was rising.
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
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Future Hides
It should not have come early;
the death, had insulted the terrible suffering.
Shadows were lengthening.
I wanted to live
in infinite nothingness
of the wrong time.
Hope was not
a perforated dimension,
it was my religion.
When nobody was there
truth was walking with me.
A strange tragedy
was visible only to me.
The future hides in my face.
The terror is too much
with us. No frown of earth
defies the questions of past.
poem by Satish Verma
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A Star Plunges
A pristine smoke was pointing
the where of pawns
abetting the glacial runaway.
Emblemic,
he was the last man on the stairs
ready to jump in the lake –
when night arrives.
Now this was the tipping point
to stand erect
where the tongue was wasting away,
The death staged a drama
of a feel up of young buds
in a virgin garden.
The key breaks the lock
and darkness prevails.
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
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Winds
Trapped in your body
a city starts
screaming.
The master has broken off
a huge iceberg.
An Antarctica is burning
like hermitage
from the spark of a red robe.
Lips are riddled
with lies.
No face is left
to smile.
Ruthless with the words
and meanings,
they have manipulated the winds.
The puppets
have come to stop
in complete silence.
poem by Satish Verma
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