Satish Verma, 23 february 2018
The spirit hovers.
I am not interested in a
séance. Let me come face to face
with the book to share clean
or unclean thoughts.
Not able to print my deep
angst. A clash of cultures. I
will call the unprinted scream. The
dismembered limbs begin
a dance of unfolding
the hate.
It was a jig.
Of scaffoldings for the
peacocks to shed their wings.
Everyone was falling for the green-gold
to be embossed on the dust
cover of life.
Satish Verma, 22 february 2018
Tribalism:
You break the rules
and become a renegade.
*
Do not know
any god. All the
deities were man-made
*
In dark, you
will recognize the faces
of unslept poems.
Satish Verma, 21 february 2018
Looking back at self-portrait
was bewitching.
Self-abuse? Do you think
we should start preparing for a
holy murder?
Like bad sex, you hold
a blue thought and pick
up a fight with a radical dialogue.
If birds start leaving, what
you plan to do with contemporary
poetry.
In a locked room you left
your bloody footprints, sometime back.
Now you are caught with a
broken pen. Time was up. Hand
over your lips and become mute.
Satish Verma, 20 february 2018
Again. The search
will start
for the virgin truth.
Unseen. The invisible
character, unfolds
a bipolar paradox.
So far. I have come
groping in dark
for a terpsichare.
Spineless. You
fly in the wordless
blues of the veins.
The underbelly
was smooth, tied with a
criminal moon.
Satish Verma, 19 february 2018
Come via
moon gate. I will meet
you at midnight.
*
Only in halfway
house, I will find you
in dark.
*
O my firefly,
why have you come
to a wingless bird in dusk?
Renato N. Mascardo, 19 february 2018
yes and no
asking
whether she loves
me or not she merely
smiles in her quantum way leaving me
hanging//
renato
sunday 18 february 2018
Satish Verma, 18 february 2018
Beach walls? I have
lost the moon again,
in red wine.
The breast milk? Was
it a sexiest remark?
the fetus was still inside-
the womb of a closed-
circuit television. I had
the sharpest sight
in dark. You like
the pussy. It purrs, around
my ankles, when I
talk to a pregnant future.
Give me my croci.
I want to make my tea purple.
Satish Verma, 17 february 2018
Strange. You want to protect
the house after the attack.
Debunking the grammar. Take
a look at the cavernous eyes.
Do you find any rains?
Refresh drops. You will
need them, once a while.
The life. Hides many grudges.
It was scorching. A country
of cantos in politics. The-
language keeps on changing.
What was next, nobody knows.
The trees were there, the birds
there, but there were no leaves.
Satish Verma, 16 february 2018
Strange. You want to protect
the house after the attack.
Debunking the grammar. Take
a look at the cavernous eyes.
Do you find any rains?
Refresh drops. You will
need them, once a while.
The life. Hides many grudges.
It was scorching. A country
of cantos in politics. The-
language keeps on changing.
What was next, nobody knows.
The trees were there, the birds
there, but there were no leaves.
Satish Verma, 15 february 2018
Tension grips:
when you try to open
the jarred doors-
of the death.
It was on old friend,
on the cusp-
selling the dirt.
Was it the ending of
the beginning?
Who will go
beyond the dead
to find the immortal?
You have left
many cantos unfinished.
I will try, will try
to join the dots,
the dashes,
the parentheses.
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