Watching Myself
After shaking
off the fault
the golden thigh ruptured
and I moved into
the aneurism of
a drop.
Realization was the key
to enter the curve
of a moving circle.
The time had come
to take off the jacket
and penetrate a new
body of knowledge.
Budha was me
And I was the tree near waterice
[...] Read more
poem by Satish Verma
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Spellbound
Death sits in wait
in the empty valley
of your sleeper cell.
The confession of a guilt
liberates the funeral
of a martyr.
Give me your breasts
for a modular test.
Don’t let the milk go waste.
Your pearly teeth
were biting negativity of the red
chilli of dark sex
before the sunrise
in a kingdom of debris
of long names.
poem by Satish Verma
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Naked Doll
The child was trembling inside you:
eliminated,
revived,
walking past an explosion
on the extra edge.
The dash was stabbing.
And without hands
trying to open the crypt
of forefathers.
Things were not happning
as you dreamed of tomorrow.
The moon, too, has become a stranger
Clatter of hoofs
but no rider comes in sight.
poem by Satish Verma
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Smell Of Nothing
Driving green fire
out of melodies.
It was not make-believe
not mannerism
but smell of autopsy.
A pseudo-elegy starts
at burial site.
Frugality of dust
first decides to go to god
and then die.
Race, religion, tribe
and their foot-soldiers
had become red
for lupines. It feels like
fire of hell. I am drunk
and I am burning.
poem by Satish Verma
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Landscaping
Not contentious
I will put you in moon
for another rain.
The invisible sex
ticks the gravity of mouth
that eats the murder.
My body becomes an emperor
even for the dust.
Not the naked cloud.
Blood colors the name
of a sad priest.
Who defied a smelling god.
A pig burrows in snow
to unwrap a gift.
It was a strip tease.
poem by Satish Verma
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The Wars
It is.
An explosive denial
of an infinite firmness
of round orbs.
Why were you taking
off your shirt
to show the scars?
it stirs a sequestered allegation.
The glare was on my days
and your nights.
The suicide bomber was
a kid, you know.
When a poem leaves you,
how far would you go to kill
a blue jay
for the golden cage?
poem by Satish Verma
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Blood Draped
It was coming up, the politics
like dirty sex
in tall Parthenium grass.
The panther was hiding on a steppingstone
watching the hot, field hockey
played with skulls of peers.
Mauled, the peach skin was
entertaining sunlight in
the metaphoric village.
Prisoners of false ceilings,
we sing the anthem with
the crowd of wolves.
poem by Satish Verma
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Carnality
I moan the departure
of death,
which was sitting in the golden
throne after the vision.
It had been a waging
war between religion and sex.
You want to align with the
sect devising the bared gestures.
Was it a personal vendetta
of the god who led the thirsty
years of man? It was a lidless
Hibiscus who will not stop crying.
poem by Satish Verma
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Sucking Blatantly
This was the pain through the window
in humility.
Cannot catch a break in rambling
rose,
carrying the dead crown of
a tryant.
The blindness makes
a presence.
People are bidding farewell
to the bloody son.
I want to come in death
now, after thousand years,
living in violence
of man.
The untouchable moon
was laughing.
poem by Satish Verma
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Lofty Peaks
The ashes will come back
in mauve,
in furrowed face of hunger.
I will wait for the clouds
to welcome
the blue flames.
I was the one
to walk on time
and squeeze the truth
for finding the essence of life,
to know the goodness,
of the ills of neighbourhood
via fake creations.
When a gull walks on the grass
I call the sun
poem by Satish Verma
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