Short Counterfeits Poems

Tough enough to not look for a fight,
no choice but to watch as it rages;
A candle burns on a starless night;

Hit only if someone engages,
attention is never what mattered;
They stay away from well lit stages;

Lingering on the brink of captured 
by the snakes in the orchestra pits; 
General admission  is favored;

That dazzling shadow of the misfits,
cannot be copied by counterfeits....

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Again I would hear the night sounds
through the hours of civilities
when there was a pause in the body
untouchable.

You were sleeping with counterfeits,
running down the golden dome
sailing over the silken clouds.
My rough palm was still holding the pen.

That mirage, that fire on the road
had cheated us. You had pushed me in an
aging portrait. Alive, I am looking at you
from an empty glass.



Satish Verma...

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Traversing atopia
I am touching your belly button,
to find the remains
of ancient connectivity.

Was that good-
asking for a nasal approach
to the golden incense
of a sleeping Buddha ?

The faith crumbles at 
the feet of a groping figure.
A falcon tears away the pink
globe, drinking the falling nectar.

Unzipped, a Venus now opens
the secret of a murder. The 
dismembered parts were strewn
around over the surface of moon.


Satish Verma...

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Upon waking up this day, a single tear
Father your eternal immortality 
Still proves wise and gracious
I haven’t been misled by popular opinion
Which should be taken with a grain of salt
You showed me how to expose the counterfeits 
who foster misperceptions,
Which have shaped our faith
How to think with an open mind, heart, and soul
Father, your every word was a rare gift
A worth guide__
A teardrop of glad remembrance and a
Prayer for your soul...

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a facsimile of torture
candlelit in moony dark
i want to unread the anointed death 
on this tip of an arrow,

here it comes 
the hissed phrase
wrenching the gut –
for conceptual withdrawl,

dawn of dark secrets
without footprints of echo
extracting a price,

do not stop fighting,
smear me with blood
hot spurts of thrills to defend the pink

in valley of counterfeits blades,
the green was fake,
the red was fake,
pure white poison


SATISH VERMA...

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A heart’s journey 
Into the world of minds 
With endless chatter 
And careless whines

Prejudices and principles 
Counterfeits of beliefs 
Drowned in confusion 
Lucid and trepid

To prick and prod 
Judge every and all
Resolute, Sincere
Or mired in fear?

A virtual universe 
Of impressions and reflections 
With tradition or fashion 
Still seeking salvation

A heart speaks 
Through the shadows of doubt
Tender, tolerant and kind
Seeks affinity in the crowd....

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