O Love
You tend to ostracize the apparition
setting the real culprit free. It does not matter
to pretend now, a damaged house
has become a burden.
Who was playing the enmity card?
Hammered, eyes wide open I start documenting
the deceit of a parrot flower. Your past
had become the shackles, not the road map
of family.
An enormous hate was buried in your trees.
O death-trap, the bees will not come to your
flowers. Your gifts are lying around me
unattended. I will ask no more any pardon.
The moon has walked away. My sky
was unanswerable. The theater will play
another star-crossed brand names.
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
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Related quotes
Self-watch
Have not crossed the street
in many years
to greet you.
A slice of moon
leaves footprints in blood.
Maintaining the perfection
you start giving names to trees.
Paraplegia:
you start dismanteling the life
in search of romance with death
for immersing the dreams.
Take hold of my arms
I want to invent your portrait
in sands of nocturne.
Drink the milk of silence.
It is dark, but soothing.
Go to sleep.
poem by Satish Verma
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Subdued Laughter
The chemistry of hate
changes in a thorn’s shade.
I start digging out the past
for a blind sun,
for a qualified rejection.
He was stranded in a death-row:
the civilians were killed.
Was a meditating Buddha with
a bomb, doing his routine job
of annihilation?
I am surprised of a god walking
in the graveyard to find his own
son lying asunder six feet deep
below the burden of kisses from
the vanishing mankind.
poem by Satish Verma
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It Happened
Born out of hate
condemned to fear from each other,
the race lives, the race dies.
The loser finds a quotient
to dig a mass grave
for innocent paeans.
My stains were bigger than you.
In no man’s land, a corpse
is lying unattended.
A terrorist strikes in the house
of god, who will not react
in the face of a massacre.
Death will not atone
the grief of a child,
whose mother did not come 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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Consumption
The peace has a random price;
buried by sea of volition in knee deep puddles of
saline mud, being in being, after the crash,
to keep dissent alive.
Tell me, how did you go in arc light
in the middle of death, plunged in icy delights
of bloody waters? Prevailing withdrawl
spills the counts in endless moments,
of permanence and deceit, a face was
present at one time in two canvases;
the despondency was victorious in kelp,
of arboreal moon, night drips orally.
When the future comes in nesting birds,
I will search the eggs of cuckoo, before
I know you again; the venus-fly trap for hidden
kiss will open the honey glands.
poem by Satish Verma
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The Siege
Dual fall of the brass.
From the bine,
from the bliss of flower strength.
An apparition
of infiniteness of agony.
Becoming one with failures.
It tends to stay
and enters the forbidden city
of endless gods.Me beseeching, imploring
to remain poor of any treasure.
The mysterious pain
a trap cannot catch.
Oh, pass on a cloud
my eyes want to rain.
poem by Satish Verma
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The Twilight
You start abbreviating the pretention,
caring for the end of a perennial revenge –
of slain truth, finding depth in arguments
which will spawn more violence.
Come my friend, come. Sit with me.
Let us search together the solitary
death in living past. Ultimate space was
a great deception of the eternal silence.
Clayey mood again depicts the pain
between your moons. I go for a play in dust
of time. The beats of heart will not wear
a sword now.
One hope finds a moon-belt on the hills
where the shadows walk with stars.
I will wait for the sun to rise.
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
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Ziplocked
Fear grips a family of words.
You are going to where you do not want
to go.
I remain worried about the unknown.
The inevitable was flowering
on dead palms.
Would you exhume the past to find out,
what the divinity has buried
along the panicles of croci?
I do not understand this war
between glaciers and guns.
Can we drink together the elixir
of death dripping from the snow peaks?
Sun was screaming from the unblooming trees.
poem by Satish Verma
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Yours Only
A city prepares to die.
What is the real time now
for blemishing the skin of a man?
In your violet eyes
I will find a moon
for an encounter.
An alien wall comes up
between us.We cannot shed
the veils of clouds.
I hate brother, hate the
ambassadors of death
in the voluptuousness of greed.
Remember,
O my shadow,
dying was a great art.
poem by Satish Verma
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Echo
He refused to yield,
and the stars were burning hot.
Night was foggy, and the moon was hiding.
His white, shriveled hands
held the center of gravity.
Obsessively he anchored himself
in the muddled egos and bleeding knives.
Somebody was shouting that the legend
was a big fake.
The pardon will not work. Death was
still sleeping. They were searching
the saboteur when the sun went down.
Winds were in coma.
The ink rolled back from the warrant.
Two faces of pain, right and wrong,
fear and agony, all were him.
He had nothing to hide, nothing to declare.
Walked away in the high tide
in raining abuses, in hurting slogans,
and found his past, buried deep
in the ravines, where only the echo comes back.
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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Coming Down Hard On Crime
They're coming down hard on crime.
And this you can believe.
All eyes will open wide.
And deceit and thieves,
Will cease to be.
So hold your head erect!
And know this will happen soon.
And sing a happy song.
Knowing we'll soon be crook free!
Come from behind those bushes,
Children.
Come...
Come sing along with me!
The 'boogeyman' is gone.
They're coming down hard on crime.
Sing...
('Coming down hard on crime...')
And this you can believe.
('This we can believe...')
I think you've got it.
All eyes will open wide
('Our eyes are open wide...
And deceit and thieves have ceased to be.')
Very nice!
Yes...
Deceit and thieves.
('Yes deceit and thieves')
Yes...
Deceit and thieves.
('Yes deceit and thieves')
YES...
DECEIT and THIEVES.
('DECEIT and THIEVES')
Together and raise our voices high!
YES...
DECEIT and THIEVES...
HAVE CEASED
TO
BE!
Marvelous children!
Wasn't that a 'happy tune'?
NOTE:
Doesn't this remind you of 'something' from...
Let's see...
The Sound of Music?
Yes!
When the hills became alive with it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Killing
Buried at sea
the dead man lives, as if a blood
in a reliquary.
Remains of a day
were very volatile.The backlash
will start with a kiss of moon.
By the lack of a sin
you meet an ambush
lying in wait.
The severed hand will
hold the sunrise.
Who will write the epitaph?
A stunning breast, over your
reflection, the red rains
come for celebration.
poem by Satish Verma
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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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Vanities
Was that a robot
claiming friendship
with the relics of past?
Or a quirk of a raw nerve
conversing with history:
and we will wait for centuries
to build a new scream
under the pale moon
in wingless night.
Whispering sex to flowers,
bees scrambled on the skin
of wooly leaves.
poem by Satish Verma
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Dolphins
Sometimes I will meet myself
in an unlikely spot
to tie the loose ends of fugitive life.
Run, run I used to tell
my blisters,
you are caught in a bushfire.
I will say, take hold of the moon
and start wiping the stains.
The antelopes, the trees, the rocks
will keep your footmarks alive.
What a crazy idea, I will think
to pretend to be happy.
Gods are sleeping,
vault is broken
and priest has become a thief.
A jab in my back, I am bleeding.
Why not a meaningless word,
a painless wound
would play like dolphins
in my tranquil sea?
poem by Satish Verma
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Crossing Names
Unrepenting you start
from a sore point
to ask an explanation
from an eclipse of the sun.
unreviving,
a corpse, the moon carries the burden
of light, on its bloodied shoulder
for burial in dew.
Half the century we were
reciting the prayers to open
a blocked artery of a dying god
who would not share our bandages.
The bride steps out
from dark,
unveiled, and undoes the hairs.
There was fire in her eyes
and ice on her lips.
poem by Satish Verma
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In Ring Of Fire
After a peek into the world news,
I will start asking many questions to myself
in the dialect of hurling petrol bombs that,
how many names of a god are valid
in my poor dictionary of past truths?
I start eating away myself bit by bit
and save few grains for my children,
for clenching hurts and start a journey of unknown.
The debate will never end for the sake of
poetics in many me, of many avatars.
Un-self I start searching the stairs
of the tower in dark conspiracy of silence.
The night has forgotten a Mozart.The
magic flute will not play again.
poem by Satish Verma
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Does it matter?
You ask about my past
Does it matter?
Cant go back in time..
Does it really matter?
You know your mine.....
Does it really matter where Ive been?
Does your brain hurt with all that thinkin?
I been here all along, but sometimes walking down the wrong road..
Does is really matter? I am who I am
Nothing fake here no need to pretend
Does it really matter where Ive been?
Does your brain hurt with all that thinkin?
Does it really matter? I am who I am
Nothing fake no need to pretend
You ask about my past.....I been here all along, but sometimes walked down the wrong road..
poem by Sita Cabrera
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Separated Our Lives
Shadows were talking,
we arrived nowhere.
Text was smaller than life.
Millennium hung on our eyes,
rattling the long distance calls.
Our house was ruined,
multiple windows
turned into walls and poems died.
Your face has become an empty vase.
Dismembered cast off
in the corner of the house.
A dreadful ruffled
body of the past glory.
I was nearly buried in quick sand.
Now I talk to trees, the carpeted clouds,
and move again.
My hands suffered
lifting the polarities.
Random tears disturbing the heart beats.
Knowledge was painful
and diminutive people spoiled my collections.
The stones, flowers
and wings separated our lives.
poem by Satish Verma
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