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

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Self- Annihilation

The other side of life behind the barbed
future
where they were seeking gratifications,
I was entering the past, without pretention.

Time will cleanse the mutation. I will
be breaking the god’s boundaries. A theme
of nobility has lot of troubles.
If I were poaching on death, that was unintentional,
life seeks a revenge on being denied
a place in sun. I will drink my own
pain.
My ashes are not meant for praise
They are to be strewn around on hills
whom I could not climb.

Only the fragrance of wild flowers will
bring back that cool goodbye.

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The Visitor

The wait begins adorned with symbols
for shadow to fall
between hope and pretention.

The moon will talk
when the dew returns
and clouds are hiding.

He will come in a black cloak
for a final assault
with broken promises.

Is he untouchable?
You cannot embrace him?
Walks like a ghost between me and you.

Our past, open-eyed, the truth
happens on road
in crowd, in our home.

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Raging Moon

Homecoming under the moon
devoid of pain.
When did the clock turned back?
You are becoming a child.

My journey opens
in a dark wound.
A promise to walk blindfolded,
when only the footfalls are audible.

The distance between the homes
was increasing.
Your own shadow becomes a stranger:
mystery of defining the life.

Living among cannibals,
aides ready to drag your carcass
unfolding your truth
falling in dust.

Satish Verma

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Into The Lair

Would not wear
the seasoned face.
Eye for eye
blasting the truth.

The path becomes the tunnel.
Unending,
in pain of speech
at the expense of ethics.

Under the fingernails
they start interbreeding
the ideas, crimnalizing the
upright past.

A vultured darkness descends
on the raped bed.
The great seduction of moon
had triumphed.

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Dark Language

Wanted to wear the grief uncrying,
sitting on the bank, counting the waves,
watching the swaying of earthen lamps.

There was a little water on the moon,
charged atoms settling in the lap of a sponge.
The water becomes the moon,
floating on goat’s milk.

My descent starts to find the truth.
Where the water has gone from the eyes?
The mirrors always tell the lie.

The headless body writhes in the dust,
words change the author of a murder.
A crowd finds a knife only.

Once again a century weeps!

Satish Verma

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Nihility

Dust to dust the soul,
moves in a confined circle
to preserve a death.
The struggle of a truth to find,
the space between the fact and fiction.
Time comes to breathe in nihility,
questioning the infidelity of violence.

I do not want to avoid the revolution within
let me use the knife to cut,
the moments into filaments of sparks.
I wanted to restrain myself,
from committing the act of accepting the pain.

The first truth remains the last truth.
Winds of change cannot erase it.
Right side of knowledge,
and wrong side of fact were always in conflict.
The sweet-smelling mask was baffled,
crippling the mind.
I craved only nothingness.

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Breathing Dust

Do not stoke the desires tonight,
my moon is away on the cusp of doubts.
Count you must the needles in heart, of
ifs and buts? A fragile truce was anathema
to me. The nagging day lies ahead –

of my failing gifts. Living was a whispering
silence, no secrets had a spite for you.
A fine drizzle of thoughts fills the lungs,
mind cries for the space to arrange
the corpses of dreams.

The uncertainties take a heavy toll.
A new voice precedes a wet moon,
the sun was rising late today, living apart.


SATISH VERMA

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Paradigms Of Progress

Becoming something from anything
was a great bliss of paradigm.
I take a dip in anonymity.

You will never know
where you start a rough patch
on the road?

A prehistoric site could not outlive
the humiliation of proximity to hate.
Violence chewed the dust.

My knees give way to anguish of morality:
horror of captivity of dawn.
The eyes are going to collapse in endless night.

Tapping of kernel in hard shell of truth bothers me,
like a mountain dew under the stone.
I will destroy the anxiety of grass.

Death of desire may take place
Fragrance still devastates the moon.

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Vibrations

The battlelines were drawn.
While drinking the sun
I set myself ablaze

A hooded dilemma
of his kindness
starts boiling in chaotic dissonance.

A backlash stops a self-search.
Who am I and why do I belong
in the spinning of descent.

There were flames in every home
and biting dust of the moon.
Where the man will go.

The birth’s print and death’s answer
had the bidding game.
I was standing in the middle.


Satish Verma

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Unborn

you enter the lair again
dun – colored
shrapnel was on your lips

to hear your truth I lay down
the book
and look beyond the acid rain
falling after the explosion

the yellow flames still lapping
against the crater walls
jasmines were alive

dented memories wer climbing
on hills before you can unsee
the moon bleeding to death


Satish Verma

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Bowl Was Still Empty

Trying to follow truth
his journey was nightmarish.
Alchemic fusion with past and future failed –
his bowl was still empty.

In the inner space
a largesse, free of present,
becomes the pain of perfection!
Now what to do next?

More afraid of life than death
he tried to manage the fear,
the futility of becoming somebody,
the nihility of ripening in celebrations.

In the darkness, an eye looks
beyond the stars, at timeless silences
of hope, waking, slits of dreams
like lasers, creating new designs.

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Unworded

The search was absolute,
truth was not.
The shades of impermanence
and flowing emotions merged.
I stood between the reality
and tilting shadows of time zones.
The distance had created
metaphors and I was weary of pretentions.

The deep sorrow nurtured
a grain of truth
an essence of time.
Earth shuddered in the
process of integumentation.
I trampled on the grass
as if to find the ozone.
Impatience scattered the wings.
I smelled the stone.

Take me not to gloom of death,
the immeasurable pain
I will find the ultimate path.
It was not easy to uncondition the lips.
Mute genes had become my potency.
Unworded a voice rose in the east,
I squirmed.

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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

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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.

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Passage To Unknown

At cultural opening of thin
layers of faith & consciousness,
a new breed of angels was
romping on our souls.
I suffered again for tiny spaces
between the thoughts.
Death cannot be intrusive.
It waits at the door of light.
The show will start when truth dies.

I go again for the reality of anticlimax,
the anxiety of endless flights into fantasies,
the hallucinations of falling trees.
Give me some space to pedal
the silken smoke of dark truths.

There was fire in my heart
and eternal burning
of a lake. I cared for tears,
the eerie memories.
The age-old pain of seeking
the liberation from twisted symbols,
simple measures of
finding a passage to unknown.

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In a Reflective Mood

Life has no gurantees...
Mind has no boundaries...

Love has no expiry date....
Compassion has no nameplate...

Soul has no death...
Deception has no depth....

Beauty has no age....
Truth has no guage....

Anger has no friend....
Courage has no dead end....

A lie has no conscience....
Conflict has no sentience...

Violence has no cadence....
Cruelty has no penance...

Resentment has no fragrance....
Harmony has no grievance...

Worry has no silence...
Equanimity has no violence...

Freedom has no cage....
Humility has no retirement age....

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Commerce

The snarled monogamy
needs a firework.
A solitary moon walks on a lake
nonchalantly.

The marriage
between the planet and moon
was falling apart.
In amphora lies the secret

of a jeweled crown. Cynical
berries were searching
a quartz to find the truth of the bush
where the colors were mixed.

There is no further news of
half-crazy stars who became
pretty girls to start trading
their shines.

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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.

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Truth

The truth about a truth is that
The truth can’t be concealed for long;
And when revealed, the truth appears
A bigger truth than what it was.

Truth is beautiful; splendid;
Truth is eternal; everlasting;
Truth is endearing to righteous hearts;
Truth is consoling, comforting;
Truth is perennial; evergreen;
Truth is God.

Truth is a virtue all yearn for;
Truth is global, heavenly;
Truth is uncompromising;
Truth is always encouraging;
Truth is desirable; exhilarating.

Truth is mankind’s ultimate search;
Truth is a great topic of research;
Truth is delighting; enchanting;
Truth is trust-worthy from
Beginning to the end.

No lies can hide a truth for long;
No lies can make a lie, a truth;
All lies will vanish leaving truth exposed,
As bright as ever any time.

Copyright by Dr John Celes 21-08-2010

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The Song Of Life

Sing not of Rest
For heart, or brain, or the strong soul’s emotion
Beneath the shadow of Eternal peace!
There is no rest in Nature or surcease
Of Law, and Labour, in unceasing motion.
Sing not of Rest!
Sing not of Peace
On earth, or in the realms beyond our dreaming!
Progress and Retrogression all things draw
Within the edict of Eternal Law.
Search for the Real which lies beneath the Seeming.
Sing not of Peace

Sing thou of Toil,
Of toil that moulds to-day the larger morrow!
Move with stout heart on Life’s great battle-field
And wear the motto “Progress” on thy shield.
All that is best is won through toil and sorrow.
Sing thou of Toil!

Sing thou of Hope!
Of Hope that lights the world to strong endeavour!
Height beyond height but loftier summits show,
Depth beneath depth reveals a depth below.
Choose thou the best. There is no resting ever.
Sing thou of Hope!

Sing thou of Truth!
That which alone can stand when all is sifted;
That which Humanity in pain and tears
Has sought with patient toil through myriad years,
Till thou shalt see with radiant face uplifted
Eternal Truth.

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