lover’s lane
empty
lonely
lipless
leveled by texts
not policed
All the sounds ever uttered,
arise from that one first,
petulant cradle song
of
'why'?
A 'why'
reprised and voiced,
with infinite variations.
‘Mysterious ways’ test us constantly.
Both the hearing the
and the deaf,
dance with their hands,
seek answers with
inquiring fingers.
Sometimes,
hands harken to the heart,
and deep within a lipless silence
that: 'Why,'
answers every empty question.
Drowning seas in eyes
with rising moon
in lipped up skies.
The night is waking up
in shadows of moonlight
in arms of seas embraced.
Eyes don't dream at all
only the seas
rise to dreamy eyes.
Clouds are living in moon
with eyebrows arched
and lipless face of seas.
Night looks out in skies
leaving aside its dark
moonlit blankets.
Backward word exceptions for me
from mothers cold lipless tongue drips lies,
White and stagnation
void of a life.-
Is nothing sacred mother?
My mother?
Is nothing pure?
Even babies defecate and are never clean anymore.
I fail--as she fell.
But two eyes are better than three
and doesn’t allow such and such’s brain to bleed.
She had her head on the floor but she had her eye on me.
Lips soft as a kiss and open for guests but no feelings
there was no life there
nothing intermission to flatten the flowers and lost.
Further expeditions into my fragile fragmented psyche
leads one to a temporary understanding of life
through the perspective of one afraid of conformity
yet change
yet being identified as a same
the same-ness is a blow to the ego center
bordering on ego death
but only by a completely Egotistico way
you and you and you and me I you and we
our seasons the moment we are zero: a free radical
Wain moon waits
Silver cloud
Pillowed head,
Dreams, dreamed,
The sun awakes
Silent mind listens
Lipless whistles,
Dance leaves dance,
Crayon rainbow
Melting pot spilt,
Burnt sugar in Maple flavor,
Dipped in morning dew
Fingers linger
Warm rays caress
Mid-day,
Lost twilight mage
Magic glitter drips
Lengthened shadows, smell of earth
Time stream,
Flows
Eve of tomorrow
Purple fire
Darkness awaits
Cyclops sky
Where he hides
The mind’s eye
Face of the moon,
Blinks indifference
02/01/2018
beaming bleached grins of ivory predation
touching the tip of the steel heart severing love
eyeless lipless and formless feeling all life
forms wrinkled impulses warring like sexes
seeking paradise in the white exhalation of death
expanding minutes into eons of shadows feeding
cells populating the flesh of living loaves rising
being passed from mouth to grave nourishing reflections
deforming the scroll of experience scrawling live evil
…the wedded heretic
…time makes the law tick
…twitches of revolution stagnate
…in bacteria infested charters
seek the door—wider than the sky—hallowed candles sing darkened dreams…
Greek fornicators plunder Christ’s scream
within the gray clouds of Golgotha
sail the trembling ghosts…
they say that there's a dance hall
right beneath this lake of sawdust
where underwater towns
have gone astray
and I can hear the harpies
the bagpipes
and I can smell
the burning petals
after we set the house ablaze
the blissful ignorance
of ghosts and revolvers
is pure nonsene
– as coup d'état of yours
still smiling distantly
but one day your goodness
will make you lipless, my dear
and then I will lull you by
the misty weather
verdant
fragrant
lucidly mystical
dazzling as a bell jar glance
existence matters – ad interim
and as the old gatekeeper
uses his trembling gestures
to swing the pendulum
tell me, my plain-hearted one:
ruby red or beryl blue?
does it really matter to you?
with all your childish devotion
please release
the drones
'cause thou art lost
and love is the law
love under will
Turn not deaf to the stern clamor,
Frozen upon my mourner’s lip;
Whose cry has weakened the desire in me,
Desire to rest in the arms of slumber;
Greeting my open eyes, tired,
For an infinite slumber!
That shall transcend the limits of serenity,
And whisper to me the music of eternity;
Turn not blind to that covetous bosom ,
Holding haplessly to a mocked heart;
And a deluge of despair
Down his pale cheek streaming,
For who shall dry his abrasive skin?
With tears, filling one lipless grin!
And I lay muted in my hallowed bier,
While the fists of oblivion upon my wreath,
Get me acquainted with this calamity in spare
Following the era of my departure;
But to my mourner, I ask
To mourn me not with an apparel of black;
To lament me not with such brooding contrition;
And shed not tears upon my bed;
And chant not of my departure;
Rather look for my closure
Science improves things, so they say,
can't prove it by me, take the clock
once it swung, and cockco's played
now it's silent, no tick or tock.
Old clocks clucked each tick and each tock
tongue to roof, they made a clapping.
Once they had arms and hands and locks
now they don't even aid napping.
Mum's the word with digital clock
zipped are those lips, no face, no brow
no sinister tock from Hook's Croc
no moon shaped face, no leaping cow.
Flashing red numbers, fanned peacocks
neon in trancers, with tin man hearts
lipless automatons in stock
toss them all from your K-mart cart!
Live I say get a grandfather clock
one with a face, two arms and heart
with a pendulum swinging tick tock
tick off the sleepers screw K-Mart.
THE STILL STANDING STONE
------------------------
I stopped, then stared
As its waters dropped
Descending delicately
As a fountain's flood
If parched from thirst
Would have timelessly
Tasted the drink
Sipping slowly the drops
Dripping from the sink
The swift and steady slips
Dipped into a circular creek
As a faucet would fill
The rounded ring of a tub
OH!!! How sedate the rock sat
Gushing clear/crystal streams
Who loudly called me though lipless
With the sweetest of sounds
Ironic how once a man
With rod tapped a boulder
Bursting open a blast
Of rivers rushing over
Not a carnal claim
To coincide or exclaim
How a resting reef
Could rise the recollection
To relish revelation through
The streaming sounds
Swift and steadily sliding
From a sloping stone
That the royal rock
Who rinsed three million mouths
Could remind me so rapidly
It reigns to revive
Still it stands as I sawest it
Wading well and alive
~Poetra Jah~
In pinnate physicals, the thing,
moves like a stark terror
savagely. A primal fear
takes over, because dead don’t
speak. The bullet had passed
through chest. Mutiny of dumb
dandelions, lipless voices in the
sea of madness. Search for a missing
truth begins. The mass grave
contains the dried bones of renegades.
You remember the promise ? Who said
we will end the war ?
Listen, he bows his head, before
the trespassing starts to kidnap the
bed. Jealousy kills the snakes.
SATISH VERMA
Most poets who on death obsess
See white of bone through pale thin skin
Aware men cold below sod wear
A skinless face with lipless grin.
Dark sockets deep instead of eyes
Where daisy bulb instead of ball
Replaces organs used for sight;
While waiting on sweet rain to fall.
Those poets know, in fact rely,
On mysteries surrounding death;
Inspired by it yet still possessed
Until their final rale of breath.
In pinnate physicals, the thing,
moves like a stark terror
savagely. A primal fear
takes over, because dead don’t
speak. The bullet had passed
through chest. Mutiny of dumb
dandelions, lipless voices in the
sea of madness. Search for a missing
truth begins. The mass grave
contains the dried bones of renegades.
You remember the promise ? Who said
we will end the war ?
Listen, he bows his head, before
the trespassing starts to kidnap the
bed. Jealousy kills the snakes.
SATISH VERMA
Between she and he
and sexuality swoops a gender
patenting a word, as it is,
at the birth’s door pretending to
be a kiss of radical thought.
Mediocrity always has an intentionality
with colored plumage, a passionate
dance before the final plunge of
a true love. Black or white, somebody
is etching a dangerous scar on the skin
of a maimed girl. Myalgia of a
nation like a lipless epic on the
while book which cannot be completed.
I wanted to believe in never tomorrow.
SATISH VERMA
I was ready to board the ship
laden with terror on mortal waves.
The patriarch was dying inside
the sleeve of hidden rocks.
Hope and death,
death and hope
flicker in dark. What if the blasts
start again in the cool air?
The planks lick the salt of earth.
Lipless mouths cannot speak.
Departure of sun was blameless,
unanswerable to human wails.
SATISH VERMA
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