the solid rock, from its tallest perch
was tumbling down, after navel – gazing –
in songs of darkness ; had the hidden
aloofness in space and time,
i have become a tree, intend to teach
the truth of roots ; eating the body
of gods, one prayer changes the fright
of depth, meanwhile you become the ethnic wait
in sprawling riots, the inside of ire was
very red ; screams, bends, shakes, takes away
emotional blackmail, hairs standing like
candles burning, the conditioning was over –
in granite falls, it was rain of tears on
flames of freedom at the street, a crowd
becomes a large leaf swaying on the waves of a red
river, flowing sensuously in a young city
Hearing the riots in Uramqi of Xinjiang region of China on 5th july 09
where 156 people died and 1000 were wounded.
SATISH VERMA
I stay connected out of the body,
with fireworks,
to widen the relativity,
to read the language of fear.
Death of a tree was mourned
by leaves in shadow.
The dew lies awake crying.
The town was disappearing
without a dialogue
with past, we were digging our heritage.
In search of roots
life was killing the tomorrow.
You an answer seeking
which was not yet born.
Over the mind
an ancient prayer floats.
The house was on fire
the words cannot cover the flaming body.
It was dying beautifully.
The space between the memories
will shrink and we will destroy
the ugly calender.
SATISH VERMA
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