Satish Verma, 12 october 2024
Moon disrobed today
to show the wounds. Why
were you bending a lot?
There was tremendous
bone loss. You would not jump
the pain. You touch my arm.
Then bare chest sweats.
You have to dig the answers
from the buried questions.
Satish Verma, 11 october 2024
Drop your haves and
have-nots. When you lose things
you are at peace.
From time immemorial.
I was hunting the moon
and you slept.
You never woke, my
god limbless you didn't
move, when earth was dying.
Satish Verma, 10 october 2024
It never happened before.
You burned me by sending blue
light from your sepia eyes.
In night the goddess walks
out of the painting. The new moon
turns around to kiss me.
Are you real or
humanoid? I unwrap my pain
and set you free from tears.
Satish Verma, 9 october 2024
Avoiding haters
I kept quiet to exit from
quicksand of terminology.
Where do we meet
at horizon? I wanted to
say hello to bright moon.
Life betrays. I stumble.
Look at far distance. A supernova
was going to explode.
Satish Verma, 8 october 2024
You were so afraid
of yourself, that you refuse
to cry without me.
When you were to cross
the path of moon, all the stars
trembled in dark night.
It was on, the ventilator
to revive a dead poem, before
I was born to die in your hands.
Satish Verma, 7 october 2024
Finding my path in
twilight to reach your abode,
where light lives.
If you are an answer
Iam the big question. You tell
me everything without talking.
Your body smells of
smoke. You were trying to bake
you love on the flames.
Satish Verma, 5 october 2024
Searching a lost soul
I found you, and stripped
off the old moon from―
the forehead of Himalaya.
You wanted to manipulate the sun.
I will not stop star-gazing.
Do you know there
were no absolutes in life.
Will you brace the uncertainties?
Satish Verma, 4 october 2024
Like corona a name
sits on your lips and the
moon starts dancing with you.
You stand there
before the mirror, eyes shut
flying to catch the rainbow.
Inaudible a prayer
zooms in. A hymn of moonlight
washes your hands to write grace.
Satish Verma, 3 october 2024
Make my path,
my dust. I want to leave
my bloody footprints.
Half-moonblind I
was collecting the tears of moon.
Dewdrops hang from my eyes.
Now where we go to
get our wounds healed up?
God was always sleeping?
Satish Verma, 2 october 2024
Make my path,
my dust. I want to leave
my bloody footprints.
Half-moonblind I
was collecting the tears of moon.
Dewdrops hang from my eyes.
Now where we go to
get our wounds healed up?
God was always sleeping?
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