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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 1 november 2022

Benign Guilts

Will you maintain
fidelity in a time of war,
when the stars were burning?

Extravagantly, I paint
the moon blue
on your pale face.

Unspeakable was
the terror. You never had
the nightmare to
frighten the sculptor.

The race will never
end. Nobody wants to
be defeated by a savior
in the province of clovers.

Who would forget the black rock,
from where we
jumped onto the flames?

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 31 october 2022

Asking For Validation

Playing the double life,
coming apart at―
the seems.

I was thinking aloud the death of a
supernova, and here
an araucaria burns out.

Hands unknown,
someone mixes the cards
of your fortuity, and you
become very rich.

You couldn't carry
your happiness and crashed
on stairs, like embedded
in quicksand.

I regard this a
slaughter in broad daylight.
Sun was pierced by a
blistering eye.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 30 october 2022

Your Generosity

The yellow jasmines
are dead. My ache returns.

My language does't
speak. My agony will describe
the authentic death.

It is a long prose.
One eye sticks out from
the socket to read clearly.

The see-through veil
leaks the story, which can't
be taken to the beautiful
end.

First you grill the
moon, then ask for the
slanted answer. Love takes
off the makeup.

How long the poems
will cry?

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 29 october 2022

Encased In Amber

I always walk
a thinking moon. One day
I will ask him how to release
the destiny encased
in amber of your eyes.

One day you should
paint me blue, when the
sun sets on the lake for
a final dip.

My grey skin
melts in your hands to
interpret the viscosity of
trembling heart.

Don't give any
testimony against the unseen
murder of a golden deer
drinking water from
your cupped hands.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 27 october 2022

Touching Bottom

I refuse to underrate
the fog, its arithmetic,
bleaching the dark
words in twilight.

Indelible memory.
You don't behave yourself
writing furiously the names
of god in air.

Song was tongueless.
You could hear the nuances
of cords in rhythm.
Without listening you go
into bliss.

The blue rocks. Black birds
come in groups to commit
shared suicide on the
burning earth.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 26 october 2022

Perception Failed

Don't give words to
thoughts. Terror begins.

Your painful past turns to future,
of live skeletons.
What life will give to me,
when I am getting
ready for long journey?

Collecting peacock
blue to write your name
on the trunks.

Moon nods,
I ask for a favour to
make me sleep in moonless night.

The silence speaks
in humility. Nothing was left
to have a meaning.

From the temple deity
disappears.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 25 october 2022

Turn Me Over

Not afraid of any
wrath, I was quiet at the
end of beginning to hold on.

Won't squeeze,
if you bring me to flames
to track the grace of
a dying sun.

Inappropriate―
a queer look of the moon, when
the eyes were dead and
lips were moving.

Venus explodes
in the spirit of eternal star.
There was no philosophy of
daring fire. It was very cool.

The queen cobra
raises its hood to strike
the milky way for
raising the lust.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 24 october 2022

Pride Fall

The yellow rose
looks like having the same
genome as that of you.

Bending like a stem
of weeping willow.

I will leave
before dawn, when the Venus
prepares to become
Joan of Arc.

The fog sits in
your eyes. A blue veil
covers the contours of
flickering tears.

At the window
the moon waits for
final call of sun to leave
the dominion of light.

A bulge wants to leave
the shadows of broken walls.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 21 october 2022

The Cobra Kiss

Dying inside, every
day, inch by inch, to save
the silent lips.

Only the moon will see
the weird verbalism of
a narrative.

We are the gypsies,
restless, homeless― traveling
in the shadows of stars.

The act was
suicidal. You were always
talking to wind that
would never listen.

Trick of game
was frivolous. You would
sleep in moonlight alone.

The gossips morphed.
You were an angel without
wings, wandering on hills
crying.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 20 october 2022

Arctic Tears

Would you become
my plaque one day?
Unknowingly, unspoken?

Blue poppies will come
without footfalls and kiss
the dust of memory lane.

We will cry together,
unopening the lesions,
between the flesh and bones.

The essence drips in―
the flask, drop by drop.
Reading the urns of pain,
to be buried alive.

The search of other
moons will not start till
the spell of unknown
deity breaks.

The migration ends.
Blackbirds were coming home.

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