Poems submitted by Satish Verma - Page 5
Watching A Galaxy
0I collect the unknown fears,
better than the known.
Winds start a virgin dance
of reeds.
There was a music for a monk
I prepare myself
to run into the storm.
You are not, what you pretend to be
and I also don’t need to see the ugly inside.
Enigma for apology,
to erode the authority-
for which you carry a mask, to beat the truth.
Where and when we will meet
for interpretations? Sleep may bring
a quick death of a nova
unravel the secret
of a flying prayer.
Submitted by satish verma.
A Name of Clemency
0Belief will lynch all the vistas,
one by one,
for art of living,
to break the silence of innocence.
I will scream, when hurts bruise
in temporal sleep,
for man’s hymns of wheeled corpses
wafting in eternal cliffs of truth –
being proud strings of a forgotten song
in the valley of death
chastening the majesty of scars.
I will pray for the brief funeral
of old age,
I shall not beg for mercy.
Submitted by satish verma.
Native Of Death
0He had started his own manhunt
for an autistic seal for a personal vision
in deep waters. They had left him to die at bottom of pain.
The silent screams against inhuman brutality
started coming from underground. A photo
montage was emerging on the walls. I
dip my fingers in blood to write my name.
Just the untitled truth will speak now.
New species of frogs are making headlines.
Men were becoming amphibians, sailing beyond
the shores of kisses to bite.
They were starving for the sun in caves,
to watch the murals for a resume of flames.
The snow was covering the peaks of shame.
Submitted by satish verma.
Twilight
0On periphery of gestures and casts
I speak for fading integrity while a fossil
of a scream was stolen from the womb
of language.
On becoming silent, an untitled truth
shakes sensibility. Small vignettes track
the battleships of calligraphy. The sermons
wage a war.
The saints praised the puffed up sheep,
suffered the asylum of Atlantic for astral
hopes to cross the folds of virginity. Splashed
motherhood refused the onslaught of tears.
You make inadequate love, exiled in
intimacy. Blood-drowned statements
will not make to the surface of time. Century
moves not for you, not for me, not for him.
Submitted by satish verma.
Diary
0He went under pile of words
to tie the thread of understanding
but was stoned to death.
They put the piglets in liquid nitrogen
for future generations to study.
The point of departure had come.
Navel-gazing was the best pastime
for the commander whose sepoys
were fighting the battle for freedom.
I have to say something which I need not
say. The fight is gone from the bleeders.
World was moving towards the poles.
We should talk about looking, not only
owning up our blunders. The import of
saying No has been cooked under the small Yes.
Submitted by satish verma.
New Version
0Even vultures will not devour the proffered
war time victims, ruined was the impression
of untitled sacrifice, a wild anemone
slips into the river of blood, I tend to forget
the faces of embers –
arson by apostles of peace, it has become a commodity,
oppression releases a promise for optic illusion
through large-prints
a near miss when the truth chokes to death,
suicidal full of nerves-
the hills tremble in anticipation, lambs
were dropping dead on a green patch
such obligation
Submitted by satish verma.
Unravelling
+2An outcast, stripped and beaten
up, the sickle moon
smears the clouds with blood.
I hate to wait for –
the sun to undo this mess,
an ethnic mutilation will bring a chaos.
Nursing the peripheries,
tribes were in pursuit of bayonets;
will not surrender the arms
to mate.Unceasingly they are
digging up an abysmal grave
to throw in the truths in uniform-
in pursuit of feathers, offering
for temple archways, turning
on the future, for past glory!
Submitted by satish verma.