Satish Verma, 5 july 2017
A whisperer with its begging bowl
wants a moon in alms.
A candle burns in panic.
The serpent was sitting in a prayer.
The golden teeth will find the apples
leafless, pleading for a fall.
Stoking the fire, you step on a ghost.
It was a fake, I scream.
Do not tamper the ruins of the tower.
They are going to find the death masks.
Satish Verma, 4 july 2017
The occult was scrounging
in stringent way
to resurrect the past.
No answer. There will never be
an answer. Where questions stand
an answer was not there.
Acquittal in setting sun. Endless
love making had passed
with the moon. We will not-
recreate the bronzed body.
Night, curse and a tale of
purple, pink horse, accepting
a libation for the penile
god. A savior was present
to watch the ceremony of surrender.
The serpent was ready to bite.
Satish Verma, 3 july 2017
From a homemade
golden pen you went on
exploring,
the young erotica.
It was a moment of
the funeral, plodding
through the extinct memories
of misadventures.
Time had stood still
on the sea of faces.
The great wall of frozen
dreams brings a chill
in blazing sun of enigma.
A bridge becomes a
derived fossil!
Satish Verma, 2 july 2017
Blurring of words
takes place. Lead the light, O Sun;
non-path travelers are playing
an exotic game
in defiance and in delirium
of schizo-affective mind.
Fruits were fudging the flowers.
The parents. Walking alone,
watching the abasement of a
young pilgrim seeking the belief
of walls. The moon wears a death-cap.
It was the return of silky climax.
Do not move. Do not speak. Listen
to voice of stillness. World is becoming
proxy-keeper. The surrogates
were releasing the facts.
Satish Verma, 1 july 2017
That elusive answer
which ricocheted to land
in a bush, throws you in tizzy.
Are you sure, you want
to hurl more questions?
This was a qualified Higg’s
boson, which bowed out
from the race of God’s creation
to become invisible.
A gecko climbs on the wall
shutting the soul. The huge crowd
was pushing the chariot, addressing
the shadows behind the glass. The
featureless becomes untouchable.
A moon beam glides on the carpet.
Priest will go to sleep.
Satish Verma, 30 june 2017
Belly crawl after a dance.
Carnivores were ready
to jump on flesh.
That underground beauty
still believes in
battle of flowers -
skirting the hills. I am
at loss of words,
to describe the burial -
of a strongman. Misreading
a child god, he still
posits a human clause.
Darkness challenges the rival.
Death for a believer
of a spiteful cult.
Into the hole, a snake hides.
It is miracle, that
you are still reciting.
patty turner, 29 june 2017
darkness,
its all i see.
my path is clouded,
its closing in.
I'm lost.
the light is gone,
the panic is setting in.
i dont know where to go.
you said it was grief,
YOU LAIR!
I'm suffering,
I'm so tried.
I'm losing my mind,
is this my fate?
to be stuck in darkness,
and never see the light again?
Satish Verma, 29 june 2017
Removing the husk
I want you to find the grain;
become yourself.
The space between thoughts
must increase.
I am trying to widen –
the scope of death. Something
was alive in shadows.
The fiction was rising.
Dust and clouds will blast
together. I want to meet
the snowcapped peaks of sadness-
which brings the human-
face of flesh eaters. No bones
were left to fight for.
Satish Verma, 28 june 2017
I intuited.
Something had crept into
my room in dark,
and slept on my bed
devastating me.
It was a moonbeam.
There was no animal on the loose.
Activism had empowered the gender base.
One long nightmare started
between innovation and miracle.
Unwritten, I was loth
to understand you.
The abstract sky was
ravishing the moon. I become
visibly upset. Ask you to shut
the door and start reading me.
I had become an epic
of water.
Satish Verma, 27 june 2017
I take you in my arms. O moon.
Crazed. You have become a muse
of a dervish. I hear the noises. Inside.
Beyond perception. I could have swapped
with you. My rage. My skin. My solitary inside.
Becoming a dagger into your heart jumping.
Never falling you said. The evergreens. I
have again failed.The crops. Standing, on the river.
Not crossing the bridge. To meet the spring.
In meadows. May be. Unsaying. Will
it help to know? The words standing behind
the lips? Will you catch the words?
Floating in air, when I am gone with
the clouds. You will keep on repeating I
was here, in your eyes, in your tears.
Moving away in opposite direction will
you look back when dawn arrives?
I will hold you and kiss on mouth.