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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Related quotes
The Tango
Lips tremble
like sentinels
when legs burn like candles
whole night,
in the pocket a grenade explodes;
a girl gets raped in broad day light
to receive a compensation
under a leaky roof of frozen hunger:
the emptiness in bed
stirs a grain, a deemed birth of catastrophe
one classical tragedy begins
a lighthouse shuts when the ship sinks,
let us go on the bank to find the needles –
to start a dialogue with the moon,
when the tide comes
it will throw some heroes
SATISH VERMA
poem by Satish Verma
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Falling
Something impossible would happen.
Truth was too much to operate,
life was easy with fakes.
Neither mortal pain, nor needles
would mend the wounds. The chasm
was deepening. And I stitch the orange lights
with the kisses of green tears.
For the punishment of disjointed commitments,
I dream of the killings
standing on the corpse of faith. The
obscene slogans raise the dust,
of hate crimes. The color of the race
was spreading, on bellies, on stones.
The night will bring spiralling comets
in the sky, burning and emptying
the pure.
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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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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Abandoned
the punctuations
start crumbling
a soldier
falls to coyotes
this was their space
a moon was sitting
in waiting room
inhabiting war at
a defining moment
it was a fatal attack from
the guards impersonal
ripping through the passions
to hold or not to hold
the fruit – end was near
Satish Verma
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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Unstitching
Do not take a vow of silence.
Death will find its home.
The circus has taken over
the needles.Who will stitch
the wounds of earth. A man
walks into sunset carrying
a bowl of tears. The sit-in
was going to resist a poem
of life. Would you unrobe
your identity in public one day?
Always I am punctuated at night
by a yellow moon standing
in my window. A nude goddess
is going to mourn the death of a thought.
poem by Satish Verma
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Sinking Boat
Now comes the visual
separation after the fall of an
enemy. The urbanite
crumble has begun.
The needles in eyes are hurting
the milk. Do you play
a Chinese game?
The depressive psychosis-
will throw the shackles around
you. Honey, you have
a trace of lead inside. I want
a silk covering on the arrows.
Dip a child on street
and you will create a skipper.
poem by Satish Verma
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Nestlings
Coming face to face with hemlock
you are not able to rain in the animal
and start climbing the temperamental tree.
Fathered by innocence of violence
on the name of war, when were you
going to kill? Your own progency?
Slice by slice I am collecting the
wrath of tinderbox, dry winds
and volcano for the sake of peace.
And I hear the night’s arrival
without moon, without stars.
The black needles will stitch the wounds of sun.
poem by Satish Verma
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Untitled Monument
Beyond the self,
is the freedom, unchained dawn,
I am in a crowd of voices.
Lifted by songs,
a bruised truth becomes a rose.
Choice was limited,
I desired silence, middle path in night,
under the lunar ecstasy.
Nowhere to go
I searched for tranquility, peace and light.
Failing hopelessly.
Love migrates back to old memories.
White days are pruned,
I would say the mirror was wrong.
I did not choose my life.
Dream of final
release was extraordinary
grandeur of pink moon
hanging on the trees,
the divine shower.
Life did not alter the genes,
it shifted the flow.
Untitled monument was submerged.
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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Outside The Mind
prisoner of retribution,
he was buried under a salt lake,
elusive, his crotch,
not far from stings of wasps,
the blood spills,
he would wonder how to catch the truth
in black river,
wrapped in imperforated causes,
leaking with curses,
black conjugation of greeds,
with the grief unbuckling the grudges,
uncut wounds, festering under the skin,
the stink starts scything, he starts
folding the denials, in self praise
poem by Satish Verma
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Carbon Choking
Uninhibited violence. The disappearing
she-factor in stem cells at sunset point,
which could not collect the evidence.How
the tomb-sweeping stopped and
candles blown out? This time
the thorns were bleeding, flesh was again
gone out of sight, and the dark silence
ejected from teeth, was mugged by words. Your
kiss arrives in vain, the night was without
a moon. Asleep, a seed sprouts howling
at the crossroads ready to invite the bottom
of abyss at the child’s rape. Come and
see the birthmark on forehead, the map
of his country reddening and oozing.
I am on the run now to graft the
skin on unhealing wounds, unanswerable.
poem by Satish Verma
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Moon’s Shadow
The path was becoming pathless
after seeking the deluge.
Gunslingers were climbing on trees
to shoot the white doves.
There were ice needles in my eyes
to check the inheritance of height.
Desires move with a feline grace, lynx-eyed.
You taste me like a lamb.
I am unfolding,
layer by layer;
year by year. From end to beginning.
The benign tumors are going to attack
my afterlife.Falling, falling
my bliss in midnight of words,
across the solace of killer gaze,
on a stretch of ancient footprints.
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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What Has To Stay
Like I want to erase the fear
before I light a remote fire
in the blue veins.
Actually this was the crisis of self pride
in manic depression
seeking the anonymity of toes
tracing the footpath.
Becoming a paper-boat
in the winds of flesh and fancies
on the choppy sea of death.
No spinal pain for candles
to burn in courtyard
of sunken faith.
Red grapes in a tiny bowl
leap to lips of sun
for sons and daughters. Ajmer, INDIA
SATISH VERMA
poem by Satish Verma
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Mutation
Like black birds
homing in twilight, to the tree
my thoughts make a perfect landing.
I lift the silence in sleep.
A flying snake enters
a pink room.
A bullet pierces the heart.
No acolytes, I will
catch myself the drifting smell
of eternal caress. Basking
in pain I pluck up my
trail in rubble of dreams.
You defy the likeness to god
become poor like an undershirt.
and walk straight.
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
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Let Me Go Into Snow
Audacity to live with your demons,
putting up a fake love belief,
who was the time,
of that dark night? Distinctly alive to what
I was not just putting up the shades of death
into nothingness of peace in war.
Searching for self in capacious hope,
was it the half-light of a moon,
slipped on the words of a hoisted grief?
A wild truth was better than silken ribbons
of fabricated lies. I am tired of playing
games on the turf of synthetic desires.
It would be time again, for what was time,
encapsulated in crazy dialogues of taking on
a chaste enemy. I will give my life for
a bright red rose in absence of sun, drenched
in fire and burning in dew drops, for the
flowering of melting snow.
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
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Styes
It was a searing moment in grueling
heat of your flesh, the racist attack had come
to surface, the blue eyes,
edible gold, in nights
the pink veil of the moon,
I will cut my wrist to pour out the pure vermillion;
a huge umbrella of hot kisses
dissolving the contaminated beads
of musk, like fever;
the smoke rolls down the hills
of collective guilt,
an anonymous warning;
the frozen voice opens
like a black tulip on baby ice,
down under goes the sun.
poem by Satish Verma
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Burnin Up
You stitch me up good, and you cut me down
So I string you up to keep you hanging around
You dish the hot stuff up but you keep me waiting
So Ill play it dirty til your body is breaking
Weve got to make love, the time is right
Weve got to make love tonight
cause were burnin up
You make me greedy, you wont feed me my food
But Ill make out easy, cause I see straight through you
You cool me off and hot me up and thats not right
cause youll get hungry in the heat of the night
And then well make love, just when its right
And when we make love tonight
Well be burnin up
I know you feel the same
I know you feel the flame
Staring deep inside of you
Burnin you up, breaking you down
Breakin you out in a cold sweat
And as you lose control, of your very soul
Your desire takes over
Youll feel the heat sway
Youre round to my way
And suddenly youll know that youre burnin up
You stitch me up good, and you cut me down
So I string you up to keep you hanging around
You dish the hot stuff up but you keep me waiting
So Ill play it dirty til your body is breaking
Weve got to make love, the time is right
Weve got to make love tonight
cause were burnin up
Were burnin up
song performed by by Judas Priest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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