Satish Verma, 4 january 2018
One day, a dark tunnel
will ask, what was your
being, survival mode?
*
On a mission, concluding
the life, I am changing
the view of the world.
*
Back and forth, you
lived days, months, years.
Seeking eternity in moments.
Satish Verma, 3 january 2018
It was not the ordinariness.
The pain of rejection. One
night my lips touched
the lips of moon, to soak the
grief. Do not want to cross-
the threshold of guilts, like
burnished armor
taking the law into my own hands.
Waiting for a spacewalk
of the gods to find the culprit,
who escaped before your
own eyes through the gauze
of silver dust. To quit the ground
or not was the cardinal point.
You remained attached to the
faded poster of childhood. It was
a generational tragedy.
Satish Verma, 2 january 2018
Under a blue moon,
a cuckoo
gives an agonizing call.
*
Clouds will wait.
Till a caravan
of herons will sail.
*
The rains have
washed away all the malice,
all the soot.
Satish Verma, 1 january 2018
To find peace,
you break the coconut,
a ritual to dent
the dark night.
Amnesia disconnects
your pronouns.
You do not remember
your name.
A monkey or a fowl.
The existence was
the same for your
unknown inheritance.
Want to collect the golden
motif; from the
old brick house, sans
a real god, old brick house.
A straight line hangs
from a roof, igniting the
faith. There was no ghost
no jinni.
George Krokos, 1 january 2018
I'd like to wish a Happy New Year to one and all
and hope that together we'll try and not to forestall
each others efforts to write directly from the heart
what life and nature itself is thereby eager to impart
about our journey with them to find out the reasons
as to why we're all here and to enjoy those seasons
and phases of our lives with all their highs and lows
without which we'd have nothing God only knows.
Always try and do the right thing.
so that at least it may good bring.
Have a happy, safe, healthy,
prosperous and creative
New Year in 2018
Many Blessings
to one and all.
_________
Satish Verma, 31 december 2017
Rainbow, a hymn
never betrays you.
Always comes after the rain.
*
Lying on grass
watching the sky
for a blue moon.
*
I dream and I
stare without eyes
into the words.
Satish Verma, 30 december 2017
Poverty of thoughts
beats you endlessly.
What was the other form of violence?
Body of water bursts.
There was an absentee lover
trying to overtop the levee.
Pounding of chest
was figurative.
Someone was dying of hunger.
It was a great paradox.
The eagle was rising
for a sudden dive.
Labyrinthine. An intricate
argument. From which-
side will come the death?
Satish Verma, 29 december 2017
Overly possessing the karma,
you sail in meditation.
Does creation tag along
the destruction of self?
The chain persists. You leave
the theater. The ancient
voice gives the soft resoundings.
Something was always left
to say. The neophyte will
not speak. The arms
were overreaching.
Take hold of the window.
Some light will have deep
penetration. Edge was very
sharp. Pack up your belongings.
Satish Verma, 28 december 2017
After the rains,
it was a full moon
in summer night.
Fleeing from a subculture-
of violence, she was
nestling in the arms of clouds.
A lost killer swearing
with bruised arms,
raking up the old vendetta-
beheads the phallic
image. A brutalizing
score, when we were celebrating
the moon’s arrival. There was
no impropriety in spilling.
Sperm was the conjugal bliss.
Satish Verma, 27 december 2017
Unstitched, you visit
my navel, without
warning. There were
bloody stains. I made
no surrender. The bullet
went very deep.
Sovereignty was at stake.
I sit like Buddha
under a raging moon –
invoking the spirits. An
irreverence bites me, scares
me to the bones.
Glitch. I lost the vision.
The nude version was
very pure, very sane.
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