Satish Verma, 19 june 2016
He was not him,
today the day ended with a boom,
had walked aimlessly for hours
in half fear and half hope.
Window filters a new moon. It
burns the pillow, wets the glass,
had he kissed goodbye
to the glass house?
Tired of being a dwarf
bridging the gap between hurts and animus.
The truth was only known to the deported.
Smoldering in the cauldron for years
he was never ripe for the plunge;
his kind refused to cling to straw for ever.
Wanted inner shength to stand
against the shots, to read the illegible words
and pick up the dawn from falling stars.
Satish Verma, 18 june 2016
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.
David de la Croes, 17 june 2016
in caskets of husks
buried in shallow graves
faint pulses are beating -
waiting on the sun
to flower again
David de la Croes, 17 june 2016
wet shadows
on misty morning -
lonely trees
have cried
all night
Satish Verma, 16 june 2016
Thoughts move
like free radicals
at different levels, at different times
to carve, to destroy
to put up their signatures on walls
to seek authority and wealth
to catch the sex and glory,
in perpetual chase.
Miss the shadow of moon,
miss the stars.
Here we go, here we sleep.
Only religion is desire,
only drama is hate.
We will set them on fire,
all the bees
all the wasps.
No insect will live
only us, the human beings.
Arrival of fever
entery of death
we are puppies
we are stones.
Satish Verma, 15 june 2016
Deceit had a mitotic division, it was spreading;
temporal print on calico.
Possible, had many variations
and masons were existentially tense.
Frank discussion was taking place
between fanatics
to exterminate or allowed to live
shooting stars.
For demolition
you don’t need scrupulous hands.
A giant pain was visible in vibration of sun
leaving footprints on grass.
Paralysed waist down
virginity kindles a prayer,
labial submission of love.
The dead faith stumbles down on climbing up.
Endlessly the war goes
between god and man.
Estranged keys have lost the doors
and walls are crumbling.
Satish Verma, 14 june 2016
He said creating a will
to become whole Being,
was more important. Spacing of thoughts
can wait. Fear was there
all the time.
Life had been loaned on a timeless impermanence,
an in-between death and death
Light was being and dark was being.
There was no god, no icon
only shades.
Castaway on a lonely stretch,
you tune in to the rising pitch of cuckoo.
It stops for a while. A deliberate pause.
Again more resolutely it rises
to measure the awakening!
A soul caged in body wants to fly away,
on an austere journey; solemn and relentless
transcending the misprints of life.
The matrix and it secret will be out
after a short while!
Satish Verma, 13 june 2016
Visibility was poor when he pursued
the face, face of himself.
The eyes, quizzical eyes, looking at the image
of cogitating mind, who had left the body.
Condemned to think, think ceaselessly
for a long time, for the election of truth,
what we deserve, Violence was within us,
rage was ensconced
in our veins.
And we were destroying the beautiful dawn.
Trials of shadows had begun
and execution of innocent marvels started,
which continued till the dark hour.
Then he had the premonition.
Dirt will prevail now. Coarse banners
were recalling the candles
from the homes. Future was collecting
thousand of dark memories and time
had stopped in its tracks.
Satish Verma, 12 june 2016
Why do I always remember the time
of departure?
The parting maze of tears?
I accept another day that will never be
the same.
I will carry the cadaver of sin,
the crime of silence, amidst the dancing
dunes.
Who will go after the barbs of rays?
Father, go slowly in the sea.
I am closing the windows now, take
care of the clock
and potter’s wheel.
The cruel age is harping on the new
designs.
My epilogue is short with love of
death which does not go beyond you.
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