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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 1 november 2021

From Fairyland

Searching in your
rainbow eyes
relics of past.

Your pride on the leash
goes on a rampage,
refusing a kiss of hemlock.

My indulgence ends,
becoming a sufi
you walk through a thick smog
to drag the failed suicides.

A tinge of vulnerability
when I meet my image
in water. You break into hundred tears.

Where this path leads
in the jungle of predators?
Would you carry the flag
of dramatics for quick relief?

The bubble bursts. My
feet buried in swamp,
I look back in agony.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 31 october 2021

A Long Road

Nothing to think for,
at this moment. Faceless fears―
like pine needles,
prick the toes in walk.

You cannot―
collect the white roses
in blue rains.

You remember precisely, a toothless―
poised tiger. The prey
tied to a pole gives a
long whimper, before being mauled.

The game continues. You
cannot do anything. Violence was
real, the pen becomes the
weapon.

You start drawing vultures.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 30 october 2021

Muffled Sounds

Like the xenia effect
the terror
was changing the landscape.
Will you become my eyes
in scorched run
to my god?
The sea has turned black
in holy rain. I don't ask
any numbers.

A child weeps inside
me. Hydrophobia. You cannot
go near the water. Stay
away from me. A white
cobra was coming to kiss me.
Religion has become a
toxic drink. I cannot mix my
tears with hate.

The bodies are still
coming in the water.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 29 october 2021

Overwhelmed

Not scared by stings
I will carry you in river to―
put you behind sun.

The maple has shed the
red leaves one by one in row,
as prayers for you.

Why would the snow skip
the road, where you stood midway
to stop the whirlwind?

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 28 october 2021

Imperfection

For image breaking
I exile myself
for one half-god
to lick my scars.

I have not touched
you even for ages―
in words.
The door knobs remained unturned.

I let go the dust. Time
was not ripe for me.
Still I have to
find my eternal muse.

I will strive, will
look around, to smell your―
presence. A warrior
always waits for the graceful exit.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 27 october 2021

When A God Bleeds

Cause of things―
finding in myself in solitary
manner, reaping
the harvest of failures.

The ghost of a town
roils under the protests.
Nobody knows the ―
length of suffering.

Me and my god―
we are one. Nobody else
was entitled to live.

The half-burnt bodies,
making a crowd at the bank
of a holy river. At least they
were not shot in the head.

Reasons were flawless.
Fallacy was truth.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 26 october 2021

No Contempt

Yearning to reach you
like out of body experience.
Dreams will not agree.

He was stunned when
you disappeared in flames.
Was this a protest?

Reincarnation?
I will wait until the death
of the Super moon.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 25 october 2021

Many Things

The moment of truth
for a flower seller.
Sun will not rise today.

Learning the―
alphabets of violence.
I would not bet on you.

At nude beach
I was wearing the moon
in pitch dark.

Silently weeping
a prophet today asks
for the mercy of dead.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 24 october 2021

Getting Acclimated

Fear is on rise.
How long would you live with that?
Terrible questions bring
arousal bouts.

The days are demanding
answers from the red noses.

Like patato peels
you were wrinkling.

The burning moths.
How do they smell? Young
beautiful faces wearing explosive skirts.

Evening fever. You must
be rooted not, to listen to―
the call of desecrating the comic book.

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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 23 october 2021

Drawing A Circle

Nudging the contempt,
he wanted to become
homeless again.

I had never seen
such human insanity.
Hate me now―
I was your sin.

You made it easy,
making my nest empty.
There was a colossal waste.

The salt was
becoming scarce. Night and
moon were going to break
the hills.

The cost of life
was falling. Diana― the huntress
will not shoot any arrows.
Artemisia was no more sacred.

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