poetry

poetry
Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 3 august 2021

There Was No Prelude

Clubfoot.
A poet's dilemma.
You cannot think straight,
cannot walk straight―
unaided.

In grimaced face, one
eye patched, there stood a deliverer
with raised hands―
bringing down the empire of
a baby king.

You walk out of the painting
mutely. The king was
ready to be laid down for the
poisoning effect.

Was there anybody to
explain that why the dynasty
falls one day and the
poet wins the broken fort?


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 2 august 2021

When The Attack Comes

Like a tantric I will
gather you and make you sleep
in my eyes.

In lantern festival, I
will be fighting dark
with hundred wicks.

The dead will come
back to talk about their
amputated thumbs.

You had no bona fides
to tell me how blue were
my aches.

I don't find any metaphor
in this qualified decay,
wiping my glasses to see clearly.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 1 august 2021

The Hidden Sky

In my sanctum,
you walk in― like
my first child, to join
my innerness.

Trying to decipher―
the moral code of angels.
I just wanted an embrace
of a flame to kiss the sparks.

I hear your footsteps,
sometimes near, sometimes far away―
in the valley of burning tears.
This space and, a gouge hold the
secret of melting lips.

Still unborn, a voice in
cul-de-sac, waits for the grievers
to open the darkness―
for a ray of light. It was very
lonely where you had scripted the clouds.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 30 july 2021

Sketches In Coal

Where sand becomes
silver, you cower
under a palm.

A birch tree
beacons you to write
the fall of man.

All day you wait
for a miracle.
It never happens.

This autum, I will
worship a naked tree.
A toast for dying moon.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 26 july 2021

Nothing Happened

Talking off the runway
moon― being you, a
gut feeling takes over.
You will not stay overnight.

Not cool enough, I was
learning in your calm, becoming
lynx-eyed shooter―
from panther.

Juggling the phrases,
the meltdown begins. A
bridge collapses. Stampede.
Mass panic. The train will
not come today.

Let's go and walk in a
sunflower field. Do you― love
Van Gogh? His studies?
‘A Starry Night ‘ and his interpretation
of self-violence.

Rest of life. I am going
to walk with a hurt.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 25 july 2021

Lips And Wordless Miracle

What if the sword
leaves and purple eyes
of Iris become apocalyptic?

It would be for me― the arrow,
leaving from the arched
bows of goddess of rainbow.

Wearing a tiara, of
golden lotuses, in eerie morning
the sun was rising.

Dawn commits a
genuine sin. Wakes me up
to dig the past for bones of faithless truth.

The silent ocean has
a job to do. Turn me blue in
iced mercy without any smile.

Baked and browned, the
priest, marries a virgin to a ghost.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 24 july 2021

With Apologia

Nothing other than,
he was hearing―
screams!

Nude was not au
naturel, like
a new born chick.

Half-mumbling,
half-clad,
he walked bare foot.

Giving away the
canvas, you are
blissfully happy.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 23 july 2021

Adoration

Tends to droop,
the narcissus, after
shedding the tears.

Per minute, you
were drawing
a self-portrait.

In water,
your image splinters
in thousand names.

Holding the―
earth on your neck
where would you go?


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 22 july 2021

Truth Hides Behind Sun

Let go the nightmares
and oneness,
and climb down the deep―
stairwell to find your image,
in seething rage of quiet water.

It was not very hot
to raise the fever of native pain
in your legs. The delicate
heights of golden peaks you
won, slumber― when you discover yourself.

Poem matters in black ink,
on white paper which bloats
in self praise. The world
trembles in earthquakes of sermons.
Fauna and flora are turning back.

Enough to snuf the guts.
You don't love the parting.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 21 july 2021

Like Buddha

Light of dawn.
Day begins with
blue memories.

I sweep―
the floor, of mind.
The palm stands witness.

Nightingale,
does not believe in
nihilism.

Don't get mad
at dragonfly.
It cannot stand still.


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