Satish Verma, 25 april 2018
There was no space between
the bonsai.
You were growing in a flat
tray, spreading horizontally.
The plain glitter of absence
brings the unorder. You─
want to start a riot among
the fallen leaves of an autumn.
A civil war between words.
They were fighting without guns.
There are no comments, no
judgement. Only blood in the kitchen.
The surrogates were presented.
Are you ready to call the shots?
Satish Verma, 24 april 2018
There was no space between
the bonsai.
You were growing in a flat
tray, spreading horizontally.
The plain glitter of absence
brings the unorder. You─
want to start a riot among
the fallen leaves of an autumn.
A civil war between words.
They were fighting without guns.
There are no comments, no
judgement. Only blood in the kitchen.
The surrogates were presented.
Are you ready to call the shots?
Satish Verma, 22 april 2018
Between the night and day
I will go─
for an icarian fall.
A commitment to resistance
was over. I am
melting under the moon.
Hold my hand. A
dramatic front was ready─
to destroy me.
Celebrating the death
was an intense mistake. It
was becoming a practice run─
for the hangman─
to sharpen his skill. There
was a long row of sinners.
Satish Verma, 21 april 2018
There was no sky over your
head. You sidestep the lake
and drown in a stream.
After carpet bombing of
scars, you missed the moon
and skimmed by
virtue of birth.
Lifting the stony vices
for thanksgiving. A puppet─
dies on a string. Nobody
claims the body.
Mistrust runs deep. You
will not ride the tiger─
again. The urn contains the
ashes of blue eyes.
Satish Verma, 20 april 2018
The full moon was
rising. November nght.
I throw away my walking stick.
*
A shiver runs
through my thoughts.
I had lost you in the thick fog.
*
The large fig tree.
Had not tied the black thread
round the big trunk?
Satish Verma, 18 april 2018
Salmonella wanted
to broker a truce─
between life and death.
We were very scared.
The questions were never answered.
A fault on the earth’s face.
Who will ask the─
hangman? The tree was
standing without roots.
The questions were never answered.
Who was the spider
and who was the fly?
A rose was unfazed;
it was a naked thorn.
The questions were never answered.
Satish Verma, 17 april 2018
The rubble was still rising
after the direct hit. The
private dens were in ruins.
Salicin? Do you know the─
willow-bark? My father said,
the spirit of the tree healed
and removed the suffering
and pain of man.
Celebrating the cease of
fire, death moves in a circle,
seeking the truce between the─
cage free neighbours.
Don’t pull out the tubers, the
roots. The ancient souls─
live in them. The psyche, you
will have to read off mute greens.
Ask the questions. From the wounded
earth, will be an electric response.
Satish Verma, 16 april 2018
Outgunned by life, you escape
to epipheny. The inner─
voice had betrayed. Are you
ready to meet the believer?
Sad ending of mithridatism─
in the wake of realization.
The growing clout of pink petals
was overwhelming the dust.
The leaf body mimics the
rocks. From the rear ocean
a wailing picks up the blackberries.
I was ready for the final assault.
Predawn blitzkrieg begins.
You start picking the apples from
the green eyes. The truth─
was never so near to moon.
Satish Verma, 13 april 2018
This was a troubling concept─
to start a dress rehearsal,
of ethnic cleansing.
Something pokes out─
on the tail end of the story.
There was no heart in the game.
You are driven like a─
flock of sheep. The shepherd
lives in the fortress of slogans.
A placebo effect was quite-
evident. Everybody was
drunk on sugar pills.
Unadulterated, the swearing─
had become genetic. You start
walking on the burning coals.
Satish Verma, 12 april 2018
You broaden your desire
base, by legitimacy,
ignoring the will of
storm-ravaged sea.
As the sun meets the
falcon, I will give you─
a call, that demons were
entering into the dreams.
The time stoops to pick-
up the wounded peacocks.
The red hibiscus will write
your name on the wall of bricks.
This was a swan song
before our parting. The
darkness will find the stars
hiding behind the strewn─
feathers of blind moon.