Satish Verma, 17 december 2017
One-legged thought
had a solitary confinement.
Down’s syndrome frightens the catfish.
The bottom dwelling
body double, wants a compensation
for jumping up to your lips.
Not impressed, in vitro
the black moon
heaps a silver spoon in your mouth.
The body preys on your soul.
Are you ready to take a dip
in the smoke coming out of the tunnel?
The hard boiled tale
of intrauterine device, seals the
fear of life. there was no birth, no death.
Satish Verma, 15 december 2017
Was very confused.
I was becoming poorer
everyday. The depletion was complete.
Polymorphous? Where do I find
the affinity with saneness? I
wanted to quit now,
drawing the faces of dead.
Farce embers,
in white fire. Climbing on a
fence for a fatal jump after
cavorting with drifting icicles
of blue eyes. Can you sleep-
walk in full moon? I am
ecstatic.White death has become my friend!
Satish Verma, 14 december 2017
A steep drowning
in traffic of curves-
of legitimate sin.
It was a supergame
of exotica. Witchcraft
was playing with light-
years. Are you still
hosting the life? In
cracks and crevices of pain?
Very methodical. You were
devouring the death to
become immortal. Were
you serious about bount-
eous harvest? Your alma mater,
where you wrote your first poem.
Satish Verma, 13 december 2017
To undo, the rare
appearance of a god;
scouring the water, before the
sun, divides the land.
What was the worth
of a ritual, around the fallen virtues?
The salt lake threw up
the broken genes.
The swirling sand covers
the boat, stranded on the beach.
A tempest is waited upon. The
gestures carry a message.
No authority.
I do not want to corrupt myself.
There was a narrow path
leading to the pink eyes.
Satish Verma, 12 december 2017
The pixels refuse to leave
the screen. There was a
defiance, unheard so far.
Will not misspeak about
the rape! Was it not a murder
of the white goddess in light?
Are you going to shut a
pink flame, smouldering
in the vicious grip of greed?
The skinny-dip in boiling
cauldron of hate? What
was left now of humor?
Walking on the lake water
retrieving your youth? Was
it worth your grand wasted life?
Fidel_Bravo, 10 december 2017
FOR MERVE
Distance
The wall between you and me
The left-overs of a far away love
The lust that never comes to town
Distance
Like a picture on a torn canvas
The language never understood
The hand reaching out for nobody
The cell in the last circle of hell
Distance might mean that fish
Gasping for air in that dying pool
The lizard watching the remains
Of the desert turning green in the rain
Distance
Your body and mine dissolving into the water
Of the many messages we have sent
Water of love, lust and yearning
Begging for the light of truth
Santiago
February,2001
Satish Verma, 10 december 2017
Your stretched nerves
move, like a reptile
in a dance;
for the evolution of sexuality.
The exodus was a stunt
playing with fire.
I will hide nothing.
I was a cloud within a dot.
Unknowing the fall, I
seek, the failure, to climb
again on strange words
to find the underlying meaning of pain.
You begin exploring
the hills after the unexplained
apartheid, after the bloodbath
of the golden peacocks.
Satish Verma, 9 december 2017
In between the scars
where was the frame?
With artichoke, you were
dismentaling the ethos.
Giving a suspended
death sentence to cadence
of love. You know what
you did not know, about life.
Hauntingly ethical? You
do not want to become a sensual
father, releasing sperms in
petri dishes. The eggs will find
their mates. It was a dark
conspiracy to overthrow the
hierarchy of calculus. Do
not remove the asterisks.
Satish Verma, 7 december 2017
Death by rains.
No exclamation
was needed.
*
O, moon; -
I will join you soon,
hotted up by sun.
*
Parenthesis.
I am reading again
my lost poem.
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