poetry

poetry
Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 24 april 2021

Between Flesh And Soul

Under the pear tree
a rape survivor
wavers.

Elsewhere a moon
was sailing in
ghostwalk.

Unsteady in human
chain, you wanted
to know, what―

was the logic
behind the savage
metaphysics?

A curse becomes
a daily bread of the
tongueless victim.

How far do I go
to unearth the myths
of nodding religion?


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 23 april 2021

Carrying Scars

The prediction goes awry.
I wipe away an exotic
smudge on the paper.

I was trying to fight
venom of adverbs and
adjectives.

I want to retrieve my
poem, as it was― before
the digital onslaught of beheadings.

Give me my garden room,
baby moon and spotless
needles. My blood was blind.

I would come again in
my burial mode, when
your trenches are ready.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 22 april 2021

Why To Think

Strange, in silence, I lose
my way, my thoughts.
I will speak.

The long roots were
stronger,
than the myriad leaves.

A shadaw left
you in mid sun. No
one will follow you now.

The tree at last
enters your―
home in deep revenge.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 21 april 2021

Unroofed

It haunts.
You still want to see the―
beheading, piecemeal
in borderless pain.
The war had defrauded my life.

An unsoiled moon
was taking depressed steps tonight.
Faith healing had stopped.

Floaters swim again in view.

A forbidden place.
You do not want to visit the
Blood-soaked turf.

Darkness enters
the poem.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 20 april 2021

Comic End

The swamp was in
boil. It was raining
again on the open wounds.

The scissors will
play a dirty game. You
divide the river
in right and left.

Enough was the greed
when you follow the bun.
After the surgery, no blood
was left.

I will go.
You would sing in praise
of coolness of water.
It refuses to move.

Escaped the blast, the
sparks. You can sail
in bottomless boat.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 19 april 2021

Earthen Dam

An earthen lamp
in loneliness
calls off the day.

After giving you
the golden light,
in its death.

Was it a pure sin,
if I touch
you in pitch dark?

Where the time
sleeps, I will meet
you under no moon.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 18 april 2021

Calligraphy

Teaching self the,
art of dying
after a serial failure.

Stone pelting has started.
You cannot hear your own voice.

Praying for the inaccuracy of time's arrow.

A physical dimension,
you will give to your impermanence.

And silent flows the glacier out of banks.

Clear fall, seems inevitable.
The sun rises from the debris of moon,
from drop on drop of watery eyes.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 17 april 2021

Monstrosity

What would you say―
if I shed my identity,
before the water enters the boat?

A cold-blooded,
culpable homicide, of the genius,
whom you gave your house
of cards.

Amidst the pathless windows
leading to no night
no dawn.

The ice bucket dramatics.
What message you want
to send, to thirsty small birds.

The fishermen sleep
beyond the echoes. No stones
were going to scream.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 16 april 2021

Talking Of Love

Selene, the goddess of
the moon, promises―
not to fall in love.

Putting on hold―
the shrine, the statue,
going for sale.

No epilogue was
needed, at the end
of play; it starts again.

The painter was dead,
before completing the art
of defying the end.

Walking in ruins
for love of poetry, you
wanted the feel of the beginning.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 15 april 2021

Last Journey

You wanted to be covered
with dahlias, unmeasuring―
the depth of tears.


How do I go finding
an elegy―
in dim moonlight?

En route I will pluck
the stars, in September.

And when the river goes in spate
and you are submerged,
I will spread a blanket of poetry.

Who wants the eternity
of soul. My love was very frail.


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