Power of this world:
Lust of flesh, lust of eyes and
Pride of life all passed.
Bodies engaged
Only to be enslaved
With a mouth full of jealousy & rage
Salivating with anticipation
Sighing in jubilation
Scratching in ecstasy
Living out every carnal fantasy
Lingering between the sheets
Bodies locked in heat
Gasping for breath
Refusing to retreat
Till the moon greets the sun
And both bodies become one.
I moan the departure
of death,
which was sitting in the golden
throne after the vision.
It had been a waging
war between religion and sex.
You want to align with the
sect devising the bared gestures.
Was it a personal vendetta
of the god who led the thirsty
years of man ? It was a lidless
Hibiscus who will not stop crying.
Satish Verma
The intensity of
Their hate
Their fate
Is blinding,
Undermining,
Colonising,
His existence
His subsistence
In this world.
Burning the hope
That kept
Shining;
Dining
Out
On his dreams
Deemed
Unsightly.
But nightly
Brightly
Lightly
They exist
Within his domain
His brain
But disdained
By those
Who slip, slide
Hide
Cover themselves
Their world
Their curled up
Messed up
Washed up
Lives
In a
Cloak of normality
Banality
Finality
Of nothingness
A scribbled mess
Left
To fester
In the
blackened drawer
the whore
of their whole.
Their soul.
Living is easy with eyes closed
Lips on throat tongue wet skin cool
With the illusion of lights streaming forth
The distance so far none have come back
Soon I am at a fence she and I built
Defining things
I am filled with stained glass scratch paper
Writing nothing
Slipping on each other's passion
I want to pierce her ears with words and hang
Diamond poetry from her lobes
I watch her fingers shake
With silver moonlight lakes would overflow
Liquid blaze pumping carefully crafted
We pencil ourselves in red
One body closing over another
My dreams have never lied
Vast and boundless- we imitate
Her screams giving birth to fireflies
Morning after embracing night