poetry

poetry
Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 18 september 2020

No Reason To Wait

The vagility
was close to disaster.
Standing amid the ruins,
we were ready to break ourselves.

We had come afar
in search of the golden deer,
which we find now standing dazed
in the moon's dawn.

The dark circles under the
eyes run deep, hiding the babies
unborn, looking back at the dead,
living god.

The sick society now finds
relief in the screams of
windows, that will not allow
the sun to peep in.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 17 september 2020

Pack Of Wolves

You had tasted the
salt of a viviparous.
There was no asterisk
no bluff to cross.

Why did you turned yourself in,
when the rock was
melting? Was't it an act
of surrender, of sort?

At the end of the road-
moon was waiting for
you. Could you climb the
night for a rendezvous?

Coming of age,
you will not exit the stadium
till the rape victim is shot dead.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 16 september 2020

Taking Sides

Courting the dark words
picking up from beautiful life,
I weave the tapestry-
in circle of silence.

The liberty of blood
had become obsolete.
You wanted one kill, one voice,
one faith.

The acid test shoots down
the black roses.What
about the mass graves as a
signature of victory?

You cannot stop
the bloodbath.As if a swarm
of big bees was ready
to hound you.

Closing the last window
I suffer.I would
never become you.


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Renato N. Mascardo

Renato N. Mascardo, 15 september 2020

A Beautiful Day

belle de jour

the blue
sky touches the
water that covers and
uncovers the sand because of
the wind

it is
a beautiful
day to fly a kite a
glorious morn to build castles in
the sand

the sheer
joy of being
on the beach in childhood
on this perfect day makes the day
endless//

renato
sunday 13 september 2020


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 15 september 2020

How Dazed?

Eons ago, it snapped.
You don't fit into the mold.
Like onion peels, I am trying
to open myself
holding the secrets.

Flawless,
you alway had to invoke
the inner god and-
forgive yourself.

With the same
left foot, always leading you
to truth. That was not now.
Your belief was going up in flames.

Who was sleeping
in your bed, nude, like the
moonbeam, when I was not there
to undemand, the eternal sleep?


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 14 september 2020

I Will Not Be Back

One small step, in dark.
A silver of fear
slaps you.

You move around
to confront the past.
It was the partition of night.
Cobra white, when
eyes would not listen.

You drugged the stone
on stone,
hiss on hiss,
hair on hair.

I did not touch you
like burning coal.

My waterfalls
on red salt, bring the
largest tears of moon glittering
eerie wet.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 13 september 2020

What You Won't Say

Don't spell the deportation.
Mind seems split-
with a maddening feel.
Do you see what I see-

the invisible lines on
my hand, piercing your heart?
Do you hear, what I
hear- the Hum, which has
made you go crazy?

Dying to unspeak, you
hide between the leaves.The
borrowers come like Crab fish,
ugly and demanding.River
bed was drying up.

Black sticks, things not
required- get piling up.In
wheelchair, you push
a crying doll.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 12 september 2020

The King Vultures Are Coming

The causal effect
was the kiss of the blind spot.
I wake up every morning
smelling blood.

The space animates you,
leaving the truth outside.
An unwritten message was lost
in the watering eyes.

The aquaduct dries up. You
get the cramps of city,
after the memes of swollen eyes.
Do not open the umbrella,
sun was hiding.

Your brain becomes wired.
Someone slaps a sticker on your lips.
You cannot cry. A muffled scream,
shatters the windows of the capitol.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 11 september 2020

Violent Flaws

You call an all night truce
of all stripes in moonlight.
Only milk will flow in dark.

*

The violets had a secret to tell.
Tonight the moon will
appear red after meditation.

*

A single parent, gay, has
come to stay in line
to accept his godless defeat.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 9 september 2020

Falling Debris

Purity of thoughts,
must limit the knowledge-

collective withdrawal from
the valley of words.

Each life you had changed
the bed, to meet the god, in different attires.

Hanged from the roof
to understand the pangs of poverty.

The unborn century will wait
for the collapse of identity.

Man has gone too far carrying
the burden of acoustics.


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