Lost My Name
Did you taste the ejecta
after a sacred ritual of exploding
a makeshift bomb in a crowded market?
I am worried.
I am becoming death, curling backward.
The wood spirits have started a fire dance.
The healing, yes, it comes from the blood
of steel, they claim, the blackness of a hole
has a purity.
Hunger starts a riot of lewdness in the
ribs of an empire. A skull on the hill
betrays a slaughter of young boys.
The makers of AK-47 were repenting,
for the brutal aura. I have started
telling lies.
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
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Related quotes
Santhara
When honeycomb started dripping,
he stopped eating and climbed a sand dune
for the last journey.Pall-bearers were ready
for blunt futurism ceding to a deliberate defeat.
Hunger was his turbulent empire, resting
his hands on the shoulders of rocked time
for the purification of greed and spurting desires.
His only mechanical aid was his pen.
Into the half century of geckoes getting rid
of tails when a monkey was found in the stomach
of a croc.Toons themselves spread out mocking
the winter of hexagonal windows. Grey birds
started melting on the burnt-out grasses.
Lions walked on identical twins of nudes.
A wet kiss of death ensured the beautiful
ceasation. Yellow roses opened the frigid body.
* A soulful ritual of Jainism when a person seeks death voluntarily and stops
eating and drinking.
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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Hungry Angels
Tonight I will not sleep
I will call you in my eyes.
My hands were trembling
when I opened the book.
Words you uttered long back
tumbled out ashen-faced.
I started burning inside.
Where did we take a wrong turn?
The oven had baked a burnt-out
face. They are altering genes.
Suddenly it is going to start
a riot among the gods,
a pure kill.
Frightened I move in circles around
the little black hole in the center.
Martians would throw the boys
to appease the hungry angels.
poem by Satish Verma
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Footprints In Dark
Diplomacy of inconstancy
unmeets the urgency. Aura
of brilliance was falling in your feet.
After the death, it was not a name,
only a frozen body.We moved backward
swiftly, to find out the footprints in dark.
Winter was becoming harsh and
less meaningful. A weak muscle brokers
a peace for dewdrops on rose petals.
I become an earlier story, failed.
Pick up the moon rocks
and start throwing them at sun.
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
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Lovelorn
A livid moon had started
a body count for undoing a book.
The base thinks it has arrived.
The death zones were unconnected
by quality of crime waves. People
have started sitting under green trees.
A social outcast silently reaches
the script. It was imperative that
two-edged sowrd should become sectarian.
The dew, the baked blood and the blades,
wait for the lifting of sorrow.
The fire would crack the code of death.
Do not bribe the stained linen
and dyed hair. The permafrost will
swallow the petrified feet.
poem by Satish Verma
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Immortality
A very disconnecting creek where bodies
were found, presents a pictorial death in night,
which must be challenged, I say. Then I think without
thoughts; summer was ending and a pandemic
was at the door. The art of debating the image
sears the mind. Must act, think later: the gold
coins have been thrown in the market, the
frozen lens behind the slit eyes watch the cargo
unloading: the explosions come in spate. What
was it – greed or fear? We are running blindly,
the brides, the boys, the men. Of modern governance
a metaphysical meditation.
The strings pulled behind the curtain, game
starts. Award is gifted. The name dies.
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
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Serial Blasts
Crushing the tangerines,
escalating the dissent
of lean eyes
for a slaughter in the trench.
Unadorned, the little soft
hole, I watch
display of hair,
teeth and shoes.
Who had conceived
the invasion?
Time clock, you need
a prosthesis to move.
Dehumanize the littered
street. This has become the empire
of death. No crying would
be allowed under the feet.
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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Bottom Of A Doorway
There was once a worried face
who unbuttoned
a white fire
in a pink hole
of an eye to lift
the fingerprints
of depression. It was
a closed-circuit
for a galaxy of
hot flares and flying hurts.
You must not cross
the threshold
of silence, abducting
the blood stained
words.
Come back to your home
O grief,
the fog is thickening outside.
poem by Satish Verma
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First Words
Tie the knot with my mortgaged life –
I have started the self-descent.
Don’t leave me alone –
I have to unload some debts.
It was very disturbing. I have again forgotten
my alphabet and become illiterate.
Your consent is must
for starting a new journey.
I am neither afraid, nor worried
but fever is rising, like a flood
and ridge was collapsing.
The death was unknown to me –
it will come one day as a guest
and stay with me forever.
Times have rattled me enough
and sword hangs from the roof.
Why do I dream such?
The dichotomy between gold and lies
will start one day. I cannot go back
to my dilapidated house where I met the first words.
poem by Satish Verma
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I Am The Lover
After separation from death
rain-scented moon was rising
in broken sky. Night birds started
fluting one to another relentlessly;
earth unjointed, was speechless, in
failures we meet often, a little while.
I was ascetic scaling blood pollution,
the life had no mercy, incapable of healing.
You surge for the bleeding miner, the
gold missing, priest was innocent, behind
the peels lies the empty hand, insanity in
parallel depression will find a new praise.
The infinite solitude of the soldier in war
fights the demons of blind desires. One by
one they kill you from the mountain. You
rise from the ocean under twilight of winged stars.
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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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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Snow Is On The Rise Boys
Snow is on the rise boys,
Falling down again,
Dark’s the blood of politics,
Sprayed around the Bren.
Snow is on the rise boys,
Backward to the sky,
Young lives steel, but mettle bends,
As buddies start to die.
Snow is on the rise boys,
Trench foot plods his time,
Blown to smithereens dear,
On the Siegfried line.
Snow is on the rise boys,
Bellowing some thrill,
Never dreamt of Tumbledown,
Hopping up a hill.
Snow is on the rise boys,
Cool as whitened green,
Pray tomorrow’s sun alights,
On that frozen scream.
poem by Jerry Pike
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Sick Times
And how shall we trace the
trajectory of a lungless scream
coming out of a slit throat?
Time was overrun by gnostic
resentment in absolute mind.
The fury of a gathering food riot:
do you hear the memorial rising,
rising –
on bones of hunger, swollen eyelids?
Soon they will meet on the bellies.
The fumigation starts, of lies
a bactericidal, to wipe out the germs
in dumb minds. The prognosis failed,
life moves in a tunnel, absent
and present!
poem by Satish Verma
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Some Question Marks
Don’t go brutal in the veins
blood is diluted
life has become complex.
Barefoot truth walks,
in the sun without shadows.
We are beaten by lies.
The caste aside had a carnal thrust,
and the stars were weeping.
I will die of a primordial death one day.
What is the central theme, of present life?
It has no nuances, only the numerical strength of passions.
Question marks are leaving,
an omnipresent stink everywhere.
An awakening without,
a flame does not inspire
a hidden defeat of haloed touchstone.
I will go for a swim,
in the dead sea to taste,
the salt of all the white moons.
How would our forefathers
know the masks?
poem by Satish Verma
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Ssomething Knocks Out
Ceramic memories
and terracotta pain;
the injured crypt ultimately got opened.
At urn burial, the name was absent. A pristine
ritual for a nameless martyr.
The sword within him was not used
and pubescent bomb went unexploded.
You leave a beautiful war
glorified by defusing a land mine
and roadside bomb was dismantled.
Looking for a blue flame you entered the stone
house of death, and left the hurt gift.
The moon will smile again
when you come back as a bright star.
The dead potsherd comes alive
when I dig for your name.
poem by Satish Verma
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Dilemma
There was the hunger
and suicide.
In favor of my brutal truth
or virtue of my failure,
I do not want any comments on my trauma.
Morality has a dubious equation
with power, provoking my anger.
The days were full of abandoned kilns.
No more shaping of containers
in which one can put the moon,
and honey and roses.
Everything was turning brown
with infinite, sulphur smelling teeth
ready to bite into golden flesh.
Convicts behind the walls were playing
with mirrors to throw the light on slick
towers. Death was laughing, waiting on the trees,
eating black berries.
And I was forced to taste the blood of sky
with sodium –
in sanctum sanctorum.
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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When Love Starts Talkin
I thought I had my life worked out
I thought I knew what it was all about
Then love started talkin
Your love started talkin
I had my mind on the open road
I thought I knew where I wanted to go
Then love started talkin
Your love started talkin
(chorus)
When love starts talkin
You got no choice
But to shut up and listen
Its a powerful voice
Open the door
And let it walk in
Thats what you gotta do
When love starts talkin
I thought I had it wrapped up neat and nice
I didnt need nobodys advice
Then love started talkin
Your love started talkin
(repeat chorus)
I thought I heard it all before
I thought I didnt need to hear no more
Then love started talkin
Your love started talkin
Your love started talkin
Your love started talkin
Your love started talkin
Love started talkin
song performed by by Wynonna Judd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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