Beyond Transcendence
Breaking the boundaries,
you released energy.
Life was an immense emptiness
with dotting of pain and sorrow.
Counting did not help.
You had to escape
to painless unawareness.
Nameless you moved,
unacknowledged, unsung.
Humility became a meaningful dialogue,
reverberating in the creative minds.
The contentment
did not need any followers.
The occult gratification,
did not need any fame.
The cessation of agony
and anguish was important
for becoming.
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poem by Satish Verma
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Easy To Forget
Somewhere the truth lies still and frozen
why can’t we measure ourselves?
Measure the unseen depth?
Not for gain, not for bliss.
For inner tranquility, moving into the time
where living and dead meet.
The silhouette of cicrcling hawk was frightening
the Sun was wilting
and I had entered into a lonely sky.
The flash of insight burned my thoughts.
I must count my gifts.
Time was ruining my creases.
Here was a naked truth
unclothed by time
beyond the innocence of age.
You were walking on the planks of emptiness,
inviting death.
Was it so easy to die?
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poem by Satish Verma
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Sky Weeps
My fear becomes the courage
to pursue the truth,
the basic abandonement.
I must go after the dark
stepping on hot leads of pain.
Truth does not stalk,
it burns the fingers on your face
for a self-portrait.
Evidence of borders gives
the catastrophic miss
let us abolish the centre.
No body will now
measure the distance.
We will move at periphery
on a trajectory of truth
within the eternity
of larger boundary.
Why you live in future,
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poem by Satish Verma
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Beneath The Skin
It was not a demigod, elephantiasis
of a beast, snakes sitting on head. A catastrophic
tree view.I was proud of being alive during
carpet-bombing. A catnip was needed to clear
the vision. The town was moving out shedding
its landmarks. Nocturnal flares were disturbing
the lovers. A chronic shift in sex starved
season. The birds had stopped going behind
the bushes. Each day seeks permission to bury
the dead, and grass waits for the noble feet.
Ultra hemo cover was not there. Drained out
we were becoming pale to account for the loss
of blood in cross-firing. Ultimate pain in chest
will unburden the task of a funeral prayer.
poem by Satish Verma
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…… Must Unbelieve
No more the sun was hot.
October shadows were clinging to hills.
I was ready
to speak, to negate and to kindle the dust.
The issues were floating in the wind
like bleached skin of the dying man.
You could look through it and beyond.
Do you think the ageless will die?
The impotent rage will speak for the street?
I wanted to negate the remains of pedagogy,
the shoddy make-up of the lies,
and the men, in ugly immorality-
cutting the truth to the bone
with roars of laughter,
bidding for the flesh of carved saints.
The faithful must unbelieve
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poem by Satish Verma
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Intense Poetry
Breaking the path
by random steps, you move,
and thoughts make a ritual dance.
In a wingless flight,
a cosmic gloom envelops you.
You try to stop the dark tremors,
Yet you don’t feel safe in a crowd.
Life has changed
it does not touch the younder.
The brain does not work,
and memory is not authentic.
Emotions are bruised,
and time is becoming ruthless.
Knowledge explodes the myths,
and hurls the naked truths.
In a corner of my heart, a song dies
I refuse to listen, I decline to see,
a world crumbling before my eyes.
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poem by Satish Verma
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Wet Landscape
A saddened rain dropp
strikes me at the face.
When town is burning,
its dignity confronts me with force.
A human clone rises
like a smoke from the ruins
of our nerves.
Why the love has evaporated
from our hearts?
In new spread of palaces,
upside down roots grow with regrets.
The dark woods depart,
small grasses peel off.
the wounds of earth.
Tomorrow the half glory
of our greed will be exhibited
and leaves will burn.
Now a clearing has been made.
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poem by Satish Verma
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Adulterous
As innocent as buds of jasmine
twilight of a falling night
offsets the nakedness of a baby moon,
the subterfuge of a slant lie.
How crooked was the conviction?
Blessing was flawless. Only the sky
had an anguished exoneration
for a particular sin.
What was put out for a show
was hired.
He did not want to become a spot,
a speck, or an insect. The ending
of lonliness had a high price. Give
and take were insufficient. Only giving
was a gift. Duality of ugliness shined in the mirror.
In despair he picked up the replica
of a humanoid ancestor,
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poem by Satish Verma
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Dirty Homes
While going my way, searching an eternal flame
I confront an extraordinary trauma,
God does not live, but dies in me daily.
There was green pain in this condemned strangeness
as the young world moves on
dancing with joy.
It was not a coincidence
that intellectual anesthesia
was not able to bring good sleep.
So much passes by your city
existential traffic, soaring above arguments,
but a chilled, far away voice
defends the crumbling palace of syntax.
The masks are crying from the split walls
languishing in the hopeless garden.
Wherever you go, the windows are closed
and the smoke rings
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poem by Satish Verma
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Lunar Touch
The space covers me now.
Words stayed too long
beyond the thoughts of I
and my landscape.
A burst of silence soaks me.
What was history,
a voyage to rough awakening?
Absence of a voice makes me suffer again.
My religion burns.
Life is a dark smoke
I will write a message on your palm.
Give me a breather,
the distances make me sad.
Black dust drifts through
the slits of our predictions.
At least I know what I am.
On a sunny day
I break a mirror.
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poem by Satish Verma
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