Satish Verma, 30 july 2018
The dust blends with
the humid specks.
Smoke twirls. Hangs for a
while, and then departs.
Something was burning far away.
Inside me also. To ashes.
I release the crematory.
It was over.
I will scatter the years,
spent with you. On a sand bar.
Where we stood when tide was
low. Now it is overwhelmed,
the bank. The seagulls don't
leave ther engraved, gender signs.
Renato N. Mascardo, 29 july 2018
po
strange it
sounds at first to
the ears after all the
years away back home again this
stranger
in a
strange land where age
at long last bestows a
monosyllabled title on
the old
when prose
is riddled with
honorific after
honorific it takes some getting
used to//
renato
sunday 29 july 2018
Satish Verma, 29 july 2018
An extreme smog descends
on your eyes. A heavy haze envelops
the landscape. You watch the
world crumbling around you.
The death was very beautiful
thing, a moment before dying.
Becoming activist had contributed
towards the end; like
targeting yourself to be hanged.
The particulates pollution of
depression had seeped, and
Milky Way was asking, are you breathing?
The fish now swims outside
the body. Death has many colours to celebrate.
Satish Verma, 28 july 2018
The depression,
in purple moon,
scattering black magic.
The eatery, I ask, why were
you hungry?
The singsong tea pot smiles.
The theme of mist
valley, incites the palazzo;
and the riots begin.
A dark silhouette, looms─
against the falling star,
I start picking up the debris.
On the fringe of
economic boom, I put my
hands in the wronged shirt.
Satish Verma, 26 july 2018
The flames had
not reached the sun. Moon
was asked to take a leave.
*
In candle march,
someone starts crying.
Moon was found in lake.
*
An anger jumps
like a monkey. A Buddha
does not agree.
Satish Verma, 24 july 2018
The flames had
not reached the sun. Moon
was asked to take a leave.
*
In candle march,
someone starts crying.
Moon was found in lake.
*
An anger jumps
like a monkey. A Buddha
does not agree.
Satish Verma, 23 july 2018
A restive moon
went on skirmishing with-
the palm leaves in dark.
*
There was no
move to prevent the private
fleet of homegrown myths.
*
Scores of fallen
shoots you will find on the street
after the violence.
Satish Verma, 22 july 2018
Knife for knife.
Shadows were chasing,
the slain.
Flawed, you were
at wrong place at the
wrong time.
You need to learn, how
to die anonymously.
It was always extreme.
The temper, the love,
the hate.
You could offer yourself
for idiopathic study.
A trail of broken limbs
partially leads to truth.
Adrenaline can cause
you to shut the mouth.
The organized violence, ultimately
triumphs.
Satish Verma, 21 july 2018
Like runaway water
you run to meet your lover,
the death.
The hidden story,
spurts many questions.
You want the
severed head of the pen
back, to write the destiny.
The savage resurgence
of abducting-
the aurorean light,
will demand a
heavy price, since the
cease-fire had melted down.
The lotus-eaters
will decide to open
the scars.
Satish Verma, 20 july 2018
It was a turf war.
The moon was booby-trapped
by clouds.
*
An electronic
claws holds you to the
chest of night.
*
From flesh
to flesh, I surrender
my nomadic spirit.
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