kipruto muthemba, 1 december 2017
Lady!
Your eyes,
Your voice,
Has an arousing timbre
That unwillingly excites and tampers
Sensually with my timber
Raising its herculean temper
Quenchable only by thy thighs
Precious!
Princess!
Come over
Stay! Sleep over
And let my timber
Swim in your honey
Satish Verma, 1 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, 30 november 2017
You punish yourself
for not becoming a naught.
The triumph had
destroyed you completely.
A seductive purr
of a surrogate write,
wants to lift your parameters
without attribution.
A vague integrity was
choking the vitals.
The defeat was within.
You failed to accept the judgement.
Rendered clean after
the bristled attack, your shirt
does not show stains
of slurred concentrate.
The guilt was not the same.
It was the ephemeral moon.
Night was not going to wait.
I was not ready to sin.
Satish Verma, 29 november 2017
Becoming blind
in lightless depth;
between the faults
we meet.
Moving the wheels.
I was the sound; -
spreading across the
unspoken epiphany.
Flirting with inevitable
doom, you crash on
the poems of –
raging green.
A tongue wants a
novelty of death,
in the arms of
the frozen light.
Satish Verma, 28 november 2017
A long pause
after my signature peel
of the spasm.
It was a broken flight
of an anguished
end in itself.
Retrograding toward
an apolitical fault
for an apology.
Illegal, soaring, preparing
to take a dive
in the pit of fire.
For a gospel truth you
take cloak off the dagger.
You will sell your nudes.
Satish Verma, 27 november 2017
It heaves you up;
too antsy to stay
on the waves,
inheriting the power-
dynamics of deemed palaces.
Channeling the inner Gandhi
or Buddha to reincarnate
the fragrance of past. Could
have become a golden
era again.
The fraud! Everthing was
created by a mockingbird.
Are you sure there
was a war cry between
the insects?
You remind me of ugly
dads fathering a new generation
of unborn myths.Thousands of
witnesses will keep their
eyes shut.
Satish Verma, 24 november 2017
A tribal kill;
after a blood sucking
ritual.
Do you have a problem?
*
Hovering wasps
will land at will, on
tardy syntax
and misspelt masks.
*
The clouds
have wit and intelligence.
Will drop rains
on venoms.
Satish Verma, 23 november 2017
The twin blasts and
lip-syncing was
no insane coincidence.
The travail of incredible sinking
will never be found.
The abstract family
and myriad remixing of stem cells
may solve the puzzle of
assured suicide of the earth.
The small rapes and big assaults?
A crazy progenitor wanted
to have a control on volcanoes
as on sea. The spewing
lava was throwing gas rich froth
to start a megarevolution.
Was it a terrible mistake of
you coming out of the mud pits?
Satish Verma, 23 november 2017
The twin blasts and
lip-syncing was
no insane coincidence.
The travail of incredible sinking
will never be found.
The abstract family
and myriad remixing of stem cells
may solve the puzzle of
assured suicide of the earth.
The small rapes and big assaults?
A crazy progenitor wanted
to have a control on volcanoes
as on sea. The spewing
lava was throwing gas rich froth
to start a megarevolution.
Was it a terrible mistake of
you coming out of the mud pits?
Satish Verma, 22 november 2017
Midcloud of the –
rainy day.
I am waiting for
the winged guests.
*
In trance
I catch the flying words.
The blank paper
prints the nude.
*
I need
to cover the sharp contours.
You will find
a mystic profile.
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