Satish Verma, 8 february 2016
The character of the myth exploded,
naked aggression on the souls started with,
meditation on death.
What was real?
The dignity of life or,
suicide of seed truth?
The classical colors were,
going to live only half-life.
Guilt was writ large, on the face of morality
and essence was always forgotton.
The kingdom had swallowed the strangers,
And king had killed the songs.
Adulterous games had become popular
every one was becoming a rengade.
Death will ultimately,
wipe out the signatures,
from the blackboard.
It would be a clean sweep.
Some body will go in trance,
start reciting a mantra,
for the sake of vanity,
and clarity of the moments of dawn.
Satish Verma, 7 february 2016
Don’t go brutal in the veins
blood is diluted
life has become complex.
Barefoot truth walks,
in the sun without shadows.
We are beaten by lies.
The caste aside had a carnal thrust,
and the stars were weeping.
I will die of a primordial death one day.
What is the central theme, of present life?
It has no nuances, only the numerical strength of passions.
Question marks are leaving,
an omnipresent stink everywhere.
An awakening without,
a flame does not inspire
a hidden defeat of haloed touchstone.
I will go for a swim,
in the dead sea to taste,
the salt of all the white moons.
How would our forefathers
know the masks?
Bunny Crunch, 6 february 2016
That one night when I got lost
Made two months of high emotional cost
When first I saw you, I started to reel
Fearing suddenly the sound of pavement against wheel
Your incoordination
Skewed and arced your destination
And without much of a sound
Your longboard knocked me to the ground
It struck me thrice
And I fell twice
Once to the ground
And once for the sweet sound
Of your voice and your facaded care
We were the tortoise and the hare
I told you that we hit it off
I could hear not nature’s awkward cough
I wish that a light in my mind you’d knocked on
‘Ere that smile on my face began to spawn
Though my shin then stung like sleet
I thought you were very sweet
I couldn't walk
So to you I tried to talk
About my great stress
And you began my back to caress
You gave me a hug
Though I'd really caught a bug
You held me in your arms for twenty minutes straight
And I thought you were so, so great
You talked to me gently
Though you hit me like a Bentley
Taking the pain
Though I sounded insane
Your gentle grip was far too soft
And facaded was your loft
When you helped me to a nearby bench
I had fallen through your trench
You told me you felt awful
And though it was unlawful
You thought the distance to help was a little too far
And I almost accepted a ride in your car
Even when you lost your keys
Because you stayed my trust you could seize
You slowly half-carried me back to your room
Though it was really to my tomb
Of me you tried to take great care
The only time you were truly fair
You made sure I felt safe
And because of your kindness, you for a moment were my chief
When you left for a moment, I spoke of you highly
Insisting that you were ever so knightly
And you amazed me, for I thought in your heart
There room and care was enough for a stranger in part
That night I left the hospital delighted
But alas, come to find, I had only been slighted
For last night of a sudden you wrote to me
Saying you've never been my boyfriend and would never want to be
When I'd said nothing of the sort
You'd mangled that ball right into my court
You said you hoped that I would see
While you had been ignoring me
When I said simple things like “How was your day?”
Apparently I'd gotten far in your way
To tell them you were my boyfriend, which had crossed never my mind
You said was no right of mine of any kind
Of the First Amendment you must surely have heard
It's far kinder than you and your every last word
You can go to hell
For treating me so well
For holding me close and rubbing my back
Then telling me to you I'm less important than an empty sack
Like pool, you've really got some balls
To be making all these awful calls
Into my life your punitive claim barges
When I had pressed on you no charges
I had done you a favor
And my forgiveness you don't savor
All you wish to do is accuse me of lies
And with my blood that you caused stain the sanguine skies
Take it from the horse’s mouth, not the donkey’s hole
I'd be better off strapped to a silver pole
Than tolerate your lies
As kindness in disguise
You are no man
So your presence from my life I must ban
A broken heart is a heart nonetheless
And a heart is far more than you have, I guess
If only I could kick your ass
For trying these rumors as truth about me to pass
If you were a buck
My heart strings you'd still pluck
But I'd have a chance that trigger to pull
Have a chance to charge you like a bull
I still wouldn't take it, for I know from you
Just what a few hurtful words can do
They can destroy
Turn a man to a boy
If only you had ever grown up
‘Cause damn, you started cute as a pup
You started as security
Now you're a mere impurity
A virus that will kill
A large hospital bill
You have no room to care about a stranger or soul
For with love for yourself your heart is full
But mine with the rest of your victims I'll share
I'll keep them safe from the horrors of this hare
Satish Verma, 6 february 2016
Planet earth,
they have stopped moving with me like clouds,
like trees.
Sap frozen, inertia overtaking
tongues clipped
mouth after mouth black shut.
Toads are croaking.
Incence of hate wafting
from scrolling suicides.
The terrorist is on move
from valley to valley
shrine to shrine
river to river.
Bulls in veils bellowing in dark.
Self-seeking or sensing the history?
Intentness of kill or empathy of pain?
Who were the masters hiding behind hills?
Let me choose my scratchings from unknown pen.
My paper should remain unwritten,
nobody will draw the line
nobody will put the signatures.
Satish Verma, 5 february 2016
When you were talking about purity of
Platelets
I was thinking to let the blood flow.
How easy it has become to kill now?
Is it not homecoming of the violence?
You were looking for a method to execute
yourself
and I was searching for an answer to
become free from bondage of self-contradiction.
The veins are bulging on my hands. Death
will not be happy to see me. The blood
has already frozen.
From your side and from world’s view
the ending of conscience is the right thing
But I squirm and I scream,
gallows are forever.
Satish Verma, 4 february 2016
Some truth disempowers you. You wanted
to be yourself as if not to become extinct.
A negative stress
starts churning your entrails.
Zero inertia. Your body begins
rummaging the soul for a prayer
which can arouse your thoughts.
All drunk now. Flashback events.
Hallucinations.
The virtue of tongue lets go the integrity.
Bewildered, spirited flesh ultimately cracks.
The violence tumbles out. My heart
squeezes melancholy.
Soon there will be a crowd
to seek a philosophical kill.
Satish Verma, 3 february 2016
Your own shelter of erected pretentions is beautiful
but you don’t want to come out from the cage.
Fear of falling from the cliff, cloud and sky
on the claws and pincers is terrific
which could maul, lacerate and dismember you,
You want to hide behind the arguments.
Somebody starts knocking at your head like a woodpecker
Why don’t you stick to a legend like others?
Downhill you have to come to primordial
touch of soil and smell the odor of naked bodies
toiling for seeds. Gnarled hands open the jammed
windows.
Will you know the secret of a bright lamp post
where on some night, migratory birds
were falling dead? Black fog is floating
and you are still standing on the spot from where
you started.
Satish Verma, 2 february 2016
What shall I write
from the empty, desolate heart,
when every word is being scraped?
You want to clean the mess
of a lifetime,
yet labour brings loneliness
and you inherit
the depth of a problem.
A thought which has no ending.
A constant battle with yourself
in the bleak winter of age.
One by one they have died,
Your invisible gods.
The vast landscape
of knowing the truth
still remains unconquered.
Pursue you must for the sake of moment
a flame which has no heat!
Satish Verma, 1 february 2016
I became uniquely quiescent
like a depthless indulgence,
in shadows of conception.
The waves after waves,
of a restless continuity,
swept the floors of mind.
Anonymity of self started expanding.
Sun burns mercilessly,
on prayers of parched lips.
The breadwinner beats the chest
and the dirt of long legs
falls on the souvenirs.
With traditional pouring, we wash the sins.
It was too late for mourning.
Tears to tears, eyes
lie in wait for a miracle
which will not happen.
A longing always remains,
a dying whisper of a storm.
The desert will return with
vengeance and clouds will never come.
Satish Verma, 31 january 2016
All the wayward words
mock me for inadequacy.
I remain detached from meaning,
emigrating to eloquence of wordless solitude.
The hymen breaks.
Dumb poems cry. I don’t want to be buried
in ruins of daydreams.
Sandstorms have a strange melancholy, holocaust.
A legitimate uprooting of faith.
Sometimes I feel a hot patch
of sun on my face.
One moon away was my cool,
abode in a green painting,
but the frost never melted.
This darkness is only companion,
I will talk to winds.
The comments on riddles will continue.
A selection of memories,
will make my meditation.
The friction in history was shame.
May be love will win.
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