Writing Its Diktat
Beyond the thoughts,
nothing I mourned,
nameless death was writing its diktat.
The dirty epithets were accepted for collage.
Simply a prayer was needed
for a childless truth.
Rudimentary terms owned
a beautiful diction.
The ultimate pain makes you dumb.
Words lose the vision, you walk in a hollow city.
Now is the time to remember the movement of truth
in a jungle of drums.
Eyes must find out the old path.
Huge crowds collect at the door.
Human connections are at strain.
The questions are never answered flawlessly.
Life should not burn like coal,
but be a tree,
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poem by Satish Verma
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Black And White
The nihil extract seeps into,
hungry roots of thoughts,
doubts the doubter.
I do not abandon the
flame of nil shadows.
Try to find the way back to home,
where I was born,
breaking my leash.
Equanimity suffered when
continuity bargained for
substance, while I opted for
emptiness where the space was enough
to turn the pages of life,
and I listened to the unhitched
voices of virgin lips.
Moon shadow in a self portrait
hangs on a tear
but I worshipped the sun;
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poem by Satish Verma
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A Bone-deep Knowledge
Untie my hour with the Mars
I am burning and I am going to disappear
in my words. An alienation of a healer in deep
angst? What did you find in the night of confrontation?
Will you be able to save the babies
in wombs of truth?
I have turned my back without blaming
on the fictional fall. The first pain was the stranger.
No other had been the same in complete solitude.
Do I need to take a side in the face of suffering?
Today is more dangerous than tomorrow and
I am going to make a deal with my talent.
The rules are becoming charred shirts
covering a pure body. Give me hands to
ship the thunder in bay of blood.
poem by Satish Verma
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Velvety Return
Like a dung beetle you were guarding
the tunnel, I will not let the ball roll away,
a grain of ache in my tooth.Why you had
to go, on cathartic release of mutual trust?
A stone in the heart, ice on the wings,
there will be a terrible crash today.
He died by his own hands, failing to reach
the ceiling of solid pain, trekking across
the memories in deep waters. The born depression
had the bride of moon without flesh, beyond the gaze.
A hand holds the sunlight reaching your eyes.
You may swim with fish in mid stream of death.
* On the death of Nicholas Hughes, son of Sylvia Plath in Alaska on 16th March 09.
poem by Satish Verma
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It Is Too Dark
Forgetting the ultimate name
of clean truth
the essence of time latched on to the dangerous arguments.
Something went wrong.
I watched the foot crumbling,
everything was moving towards dark.
I wiped the magnifying glass
to witness the hunger
of everyday life,
blue veins of the shriveled legs.
Sinking deep in smeared eyes,
a panic leaps.
Nothingness to nothingness,
I could not use any syntax.
Repeating same sentences,
you are lost in labyrinth stabbing the walls.
Sunset will send
the blurred sparrows to home.
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poem by Satish Verma
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From Death To Death
What do I do with the words?
They hurt, they flourish without thoughts,
destroying the civilities.
The sky cannot hold the conflict.
The strange friction
of the image blurs the colors.
Love has become a cauldron.
A tough question
tries to penetrate in my skin.
I come out of my body,
peeling off the conflicts
from the timeless silence.
The voices of doom hang on the trees.
Somewhere the tears
turn into watermark.
Not afraid of afterlife
I am ready
from death to death.
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poem by Satish Verma
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Between Two Centuries
Choice was washing the guilt
or keeping mind shut.
Microscopic deterioration
in the brain had set in.
The monologue of humility
was not relevant for the flame ritual.
They said the death was a dropp of wine.
Immoral alchemy had
broken the enormous myth.
The electrons went crazy,
they orbited like hungry eagles.
Truth was never the same.
Fading age wears new wrinkles,
black on black rose praises the air.
The return of grief, was very evident.
Eyes blinked endlessly,
I too lifted the pleated pain.
Enzyme of new creation
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poem by Satish Verma
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Dragging
The Asperger syndrome: you will not speak,
you will not tell me about
fertilizer bomb. In a farmhouse blackwater
becomes a death chamber.
A toddler falls in a borewell,
you can still measure hypothermia,
the tilting of meteor saves the landfall,
stalking through the extended body.
What was the right thing in a chorus of protests
to underline the resilience of beaks and claws?
It bugs the space and diameters of arguments
about the sweep of corruption in integrities.
It is very difficult to stay being whole amidst
the broken shards of bones. The dreams were
set in stones and water was rising.
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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.
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poem by Satish Verma
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Under the Covers
Learning something about
a cause with remote effect
you will have a soul
connective to the body.
Near the end of the home
lies the river of fire.
Time to bid goodbye
to blind walls
and enter the arena of lashings.
It was difficult to unremember.
The mind rambled and you were chewing
the kiss of death.
Time traveled in circle,
dealing with fear.
I waited for the space, to widen between us
to breathe forgiveness.
Nothing stirs the waves.
The water reflects the elegy,
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poem by Satish Verma
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