The Healer
An all pin pricks again
draws blood from empty hands
blank papers fly.
Trying to learn Braille
to write a canto
for unseeing Budha.
Unbroken tinnitus violates peace.
night is also blanking the vowels
Pain has become wordless.
Light can only be assumed
fleeing from the moon.
only breeze gives the hint.
The burning grass scrolls back:
there is no healer
in the bush.
poem by Satish Verma
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Death Of A Godman
I have agreed to cede
an unwritten moon
in a killing frenzy,
for a chequered spirituality.
Now visitation will start
ravishing the light at dawn.
The grievers will assemble
for a final scoop of dust.
Forgive my star,
for a failed touchdown.
A child stands before glitterati
born again to suffer the other sky.
Nothing comes out of nothing.
The circle was complete.
poem by Satish Verma
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Heavenly
Walking with death
talking poetica.
Living without walls
and firing squad.
While new culture was
drowning on steps of
dots and bass voices.
The blood on hands.
Sometimes you are going
nowhere in a pathless
city. Back to back setting
ablaze bazaar of black gods.
Between the veils lies
the trauma of man. I
step out from the underside of
hymns. Cannot sleep in temple.
poem by Satish Verma
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Monilia
Irreverent arsenic of lake bottom
was seeping in me
I was riding on waves, moon-stuck.
The nude shot
of anemone, blindfolded
after the criminal assault.
Why they were throwing the lewed comments?
A raw cave
of white pain, drags the deity out
and dances on hawthorns.
The butchers become sick,
sick to the bones.
O democracy, king was not wise,
wise was not king.
poem by Satish Verma
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Night Light
That cameo was my secret grief.
He will make you sing,
the hooded moon.
Not a sacred thing
Kissing the toes of a traveller
for fecundity.
In doorway it was between
us and them for bargaining
for Dahlias.
Lips unkissed will call for
honey from bees.
Eyes will srarch for a candle.
In alien land of flames
and tumultuous desires,
the golden breasts will take revenge.
poem by Satish Verma
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Now
He, making his own cast. You knew it.
Unique mystique of transparency.
You could not touch him.
Walking ahead of the sun,
long shadow, sweating it out,
pungent odor.
Innocence hung from desiccated tongue,
he preserved original speech
before falling prey to polymorphism.
Certain amount of tears, some sadness
make life sweet for a while.
Phrases are not hurting now.
poem by Satish Verma
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Off-limits
There was a soul-searching
after a negative assassination
tearing my past, my future.
Beneath the burden
lies the mountain of bail-outs.
You don’t feel whole
in shadows of countings.
The borders were breached
for lavish darkness
alive under the full moon.
Was it a flight risk in a swan
lake, when you were
taking a dive to pluck the
erupting fire of indictment.
poem by Satish Verma
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In Chains
Listening,
to inner voice,
peeling off the hurts,
hammered memories.
You dropp the answer
and throw back the question.
Something was totally amiss
Absence overtakes the presence.
The shadow was more frightening.
No movement,
A lull before a flash,
then explosion. The limbs will fly.
The ending of thought
or beginning of emptiness?
A green death starts thinking.
poem by Satish Verma
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Integrity At Large
Was that a non-devil effort
to hide the language
from cultural onslaughts?
The anger splits the opinion
about hurting goodness.
An isolated insult will spur
the words against the flight over
the answer, before the brush
with picketing fear, showing heroism.
I speak for unknown enemies
who wanted to alter the season
by planting horror on the street.
poem by Satish Verma
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Pantheon
After the moon
it was an unkempt night.
I wanted to kill the narrative
and recast the frozen history.
A dirt road leads to a new trajectory now,
splattered with blood.
A double tongued thought brings
the ire of screaming horror.
Strapped for knowledge, he believed
in resurrection of a black hole.
The pain, it hurts terrible.
Emblematic was the bending of candles.
poem by Satish Verma
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