Stoning Dark
What was the ethics of homefires
when homeostasis had gone awry?
There were no concrete truths.
I will not wear the lies instead
like fly ash on my bloodied shirt.
The old habits die hard;
the beds of flesh and bones, carry the
strange innocent meanings of heavy
eyelids which could not beat the silk
of green eyes of a sun.
A miracle was needed to undo the
thighs of mermaid who went to sleep on the
rocks of jealousy. The sky-blue flames
rise again from the navel of infidel love
who had inherited the golden moon.
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
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On The Gallows
Lead me into, the green darkness, under
the nude flames.
It was hurting; the golden sun.
Out of full moon, werewolves would
come out
chasing the flesh, the long limbs
of silence, in asci of fluids, stopped
in tracks.
No seed will grow now in wilderness.
My extended shade becomes anarchic
if fleetingly.
A miracle falling like a hurricane.
poem by Satish Verma
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Zero Hour
It was night’s fury
whipping up hysteria
on specks of flames, dancing in pain.
On a heap of ashes
and bones where a child of death
will be born.
Before fading,
moon will kiss the golden thighs
of sun and think aloud
dying shirtless in intimate
ambit of sky.
poem by Satish Verma
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Cracking The Code
Blue poppies were poised
to meet the regret of thighs,
mother of sins.
No flesh now covers the eyes.
A candle burns a green
thumb. A silver bowl breaks,
spilling the milk of nudes. Liars will tell
the story of honour killing.
We were tired of listening
to ravens taking a flight.
No one had seen the corpse.
Only black bones will tell the truth.
Have you seen the holocaust?
It was inside my pen! my write!
poem by Satish Verma
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Green Eyed Mermaid
There’s a green eyed mermaid
who lives deep in the sea,
she has a mermaid tail
all sparkly and bluish green.
At night with the light of moon,
her eyes turn more greenish blue.
But green mostly during the day,
her big eyes have specs of brown not grey,
She sits on the rocks to get a tan,
she uses her tail as a fan.
Her tail flaps, swish, swish, swish.
Then at night when all fishes asleep,
she goes to rocks again and has a peep.
She looks at moon and makes a wish,
she wishes a pirate would give her a kiss.
Then she see’s his ship come to shore,
she anxiously waits, wondering what’s in store.
Pirate lands, and spots green eyed mermaid’s eyes,
he becomes totally hypnotized.
Realizing he sealed his fate,
he kisses her and they sets a date.
A date is set to
A date is set to marry thee,
Yes, green eyed mermaid Melodie.
Then the both go to sea,
Melodie is now a human with legs,
Her pirate husband has one leg as peg.
Now they sail the seas,
Melodie is so happy she is free.
poem by Christina Sunrise
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Green Eyed Melodie Mermaıd
There’s a green eyed mermaid
who lives deep in the sea,
she has a mermaid tail
all sparkly and bluish green.
At night with the light of moon,
her eyes turn more greenish blue.
But green mostly during the day,
her big eyes have specs of brown not grey,
She sits on the rocks to get a tan,
she uses her tail as a fan.
Her tail flaps, swish, swish, swish,
swimming below is tiny fish.
Then at night when all fishes asleep,
she goes to rocks again and has a peep.
She looks at moon and makes a wish,
she wishes a pirate would give her a kiss.
Then she see’s his ship come to shore,
she anxiously waits, wondering what’s in store.
Pirate lands, and spots green eyed mermaid’s eyes,
he becomes totally hypnotized.
Realizing he sealed his fate,
he kisses her and they sets a date.
A date is set to
A date is set to marry thee,
Yes, green eyed mermaid Melodie.
Then the both go to sea,
Melodie is now a human with legs,
Her pirate husband has one leg as peg.
Now they sail the seas,
Melodie is so happy.
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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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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Mud On My Hands
Green eyes in the crevices of rocks
will not let the fossil weep
for innocent sun.
A mayfly floats like
a dry leaf on water, in the circuit
of sharks.
I offer not my robotic arm, insulting
the jaws in the crumpled solitude
of night. I will walk
with new moon to understand
the wetting of a bleeder,
heart and soul.
The umbilical pain again catches. I cry
in my own silence. This was not the
end I wished. Hearing aid
to feel the sting of a scream,
which rises from the depth of a blue
lake wounded by pride.
poem by Satish Verma
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Concrete Mind
Can I get a pass, from my wrongs?
Will you make me not forget?
Are you like a concrete mind,
That's permanently set?
Concrete mind won't wear out.
For when she has a crack.
She only fills in where it's split.
Your wrongs she'll always track.
I thought I would be honest
Lead a new way of life
To concrete mind this is a weapon
She'll use just like a knife
She'll just use it against you
You'll never live it down
Her life is like a circus
And you're the lonely clown
And when you try to fix
The things that have been broken
Concrete mind will take your wrongs
And use them like a token
Where did I go wrong you'll ask
In each and every way
So if you trip and stumble
Concrete mind will say:
“Go straight to jail,
Do not pass go
Be ashamed
You are so low
Just like scum,
You always rise
All of your truths
To me their lies
You past is now
You'll never change
Forgiveness a word
I find so strange
I will forgive
But not forget
My heart is hard
My mind is set
Show you mercy?
Show you grace?
Go find those things
Another place.
All you give.
I'll simply take.
I'll do this till,
Your will I break”
Concrete mind
Will you soften a bit?
I've tried so hard,
But I want to quit.
Like one step forward
And Ten steps back
You throw me a rope
Without any slack
Concrete mind
Can't you see
From your concrete prison
I can't break free
So concrete mind
I ask one last time
Will I ever pay the price
For my past crimes
Your concrete heart
Your concrete mind
Won't let me leave
My past behind
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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Underscoring
A distraught moon
takes a misstep
and goes behind the hill
to take a holy bath.
Disconnects
with a trespasser
and sends to night,
a bouquet of stars with muffled prayers.
Shades of lies haunt, in flames
of faith. A suicide bomber ploughs
through a playground, throwing the bits
of human pieces on nets.
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
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Bloodied Mouth
Tonight I lift your eyes from the face
and paste it on my window.
Even death cannot claim the space
reversing the age.
A bra bomber blows up herself
in a windowless cell,
to get her a name on the wall of silence,
sort of a miracle.
Roses are in bloom
perfume of your life.
Do you take for granted
a claim for the sun?
Over to next moon
I will wait for the night,
to start a turf war
for the bloodied mouth.
poem by Satish Verma
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NAKED FREEDOM (A sequel to the massacre of 23rd Nov 09 in Philippines)
Intended to violate
the omnipresent,
stillness unzips the inviolate –
truth.
You walk through a legend:
To test the chastity
you need to dip your hand
in a very hot oil.
A sleepless summer night
descends on the hill
violins in dark
lie mutilated.
Hidden tracks will not tell
from where came the pattern
of enemies entering
the bloodied moon.
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
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Old Habits Die Hard
(criston barker, david moyse)
Seems like yesterday my life had begun
As we went through life
Tryin to make it so much fun
And I know that Im still in love with you
Cause youre one bad habit that I cant refuse
Old habits die hard
Old habits die hard
Lifes been strange to me since youve been gone
And its so hard tryin; to say that I was wrong
Now I know that Im still in love with you
Cause youre the one bad habit that I cant refuse
Old habits die hard
Old habits die hard
Old habits die hard
Old habits die hard
You know and I know that you cant live on memories alone
Theres just one memory that Im thinking of
Just one habit that I cant shake off, its you
Old habits die hard
Old habits die hard
Old habits die hard
And theres just one memory Im thinking of
Just one habit that I cant shake off, its you
Old habits die hard
Old habits die hard
Old habits die hard
Old habits die hard
Old habits die hard
Old habits die hard
song performed by by Air Supply
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nailed
eyes will chew the words
i will not see all day along, do you hear
my thoughts in the icicles of flames, my bones
jutting out of knuckles,
i will go to memory lane once again:
where the stale smell of yellow pages
throws up invisible thighs groping for support
climbing in vain,
half moon floating on lake of tears
in fire of dark night –
drenched, he was escaping without legs
in white darkness of unaddressed pain,
sorrow of locked shame …..
victim of blisters on blasting flesh,
knees give way,
what was the date of surrender,
i was meditating on the ashes of serpents
beneath the ocean of protests in voyage
of solitude, as your lips quiver
in resilience of benign submission
poem by Satish Verma
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Hallucination
Watching the ascension
of half-moon from the brown hills
there was a blast in veins.
A raw hope strokes the clouds.
Starting a fire in stars,
making you blind.
Till the eyelids become heavy
with guilt, striving. Waking up
in middle of blue.
I was trying to reach you, when you
were not there,
wounding me in void.
poem by Satish Verma
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What Ending
In your limpid eyes
a pacifism slumps.
All I could say was, wrong sex
was ending in ice.
Dark energy: we were not expanding
Lies galore : we were casting
off our skins. I will not seek
afterlife. The hand carries the old coat.
Retrodiction. Don't want to shed
the charm. Waited for the change
which never came. Chicken,
wearing love, no bones.
Latest navel show. Walking on
ramp. Aphrodiasiac for the dangling
egos. Let us go for a
collective suicide.
poem by Satish Verma
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All The Empty Hands
To catch himself
he jumped into fishpond
becoming opaque
between silk and lethal crotch.
Milk of silence started flowing
from earth’s breast.
His name was a flower
who was a blind witness
of the love-
for a moon
which plunged into a lake without a bottom.
Pain is spilled since then
on the charred lips.
Marigold–
waits for the sun
to rise only once.
All the empty hands
carry one eye
of the seeds,
to sprout in jungle of smiles.
poem by Satish Verma
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Kupfernickled
Looked downward –
the granite face,
to see imprinted kupfernickeled
god, lying in dust.
From where to where
we have come sleepwalking?
In freezing winds, like brown angels
with swollen lids.
White moon-poised to commit suicide?
Blindfolded heavy as lead
in the trade of spared lies?
Back pain will carry us not very far.
Green stems have yellow leaves now.
We start blaming ourselves
to keep the winter away,
in torn shirts.
poem by Satish Verma
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Oblivion
A cutaneous drip.
The young moon drinks the dew
unbuttoning a rose.
A fierce wind rubs
against the golden triangle
to invite a violet sting.
Eyes armed with green thumbs
go for a swim in rage.
The lake unloosens a blood moon.
No inscense will rise
from the tomb of a lover,
unless he dies with a style.
Crossing the gray lines,
I will not take your lips;
paralyzing the silver tongs.
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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Magestic Innocence
How far? How far the goodness will survive?
Born to suffer, a troubled mind
was punished, for melting down.
Livid with revenge sun bleaches
the man made God, a personal anger.
Executioner was on the street
lighting bonfires of your principles.
A silent hope revolts, like green fire,
evergreen, possessing the pride spurts
of hot flames, as the age grows,
the grieving will stop, and when the borders sleep,
it will rise on the horizon, a new moon on
a majestic innocence
of pure hills in sky!
poem by Satish Verma
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