poetry

poetry
Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 9 june 2023

Burnt-Out

Abdicating your
throne, O god, I am not
worthy of human being.

Has the man risen
from the salamander's leg
severed from body?

At the mercy of a
creator's path you will not
find peace at end.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 8 june 2023

Eclipsing

Like a hot cinder
on the black paper, makes
a hole in heart.

Your zodiac sign
will burn under the moon.
The other side cries.

The fair queen has
a scar on forehead. Third
eye was waning.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 7 june 2023

Delicate Maturity

It was scary to
listen to the sounds of
your glossy tresses.

To taste flavours
of your lips in return
for bleeds of poems.

The panther. He goes
a kill a day. Will change
legitimately?


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 6 june 2023

After Separation

You filter time.
Time filters you.
I catch the words.

The empty bowl
of a fakir betrays the fabric
of life, without seeking.

Mid winter I will ask―
the moon not to freeze.
Some sounds you will not hear.

Tearing the fog, I
wanted to teach you the language
of pain, becoming cold.

Like meteor of
a melting star, you were moving
away faster than light.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 5 june 2023

Strange Phenomena

You did not give
space, for a random kiss.
Winter loss?

I will not find you
in spring. The buried roots
of a fallen tree, fail
to wake up.

Days pass dying.
A soft retreat from
commitments. Slow poisoning.

The empty house.
You should plow through the memories
of unlived in dreams.

There is no cue.
How will you bring sparrows
to breed on ventilators.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 4 june 2023

On Reverse Trail

Like hungry jaguar
I hunted you
in music of limbs.

The thrust played
a game of hide and seek
between the islands.

It should not have
happened like this. The covert
rowing. Sea never forgives.

The ache has
a continuity. The lost tribe
still wants to remain
untraced.

Time makes you strong.
One day you score a
unique myth.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 3 june 2023

So Much To Think

You swirl around
my poems to enter old nest.
I do not know how to pray.

I will backtrack
to find my footprints in
your glistening eyes.

To admire the purity
of flame, I taste red berries
of firethorn. You recite
a sacred hymn.

No name was needed
for unknown agony of your mind.
Neither you will muse
nor I will write.

Every December snow
becomes a shroud.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 2 june 2023

So Much To Think

You swirl around
my poems to enter old nest.
I do not know how to pray.

I will backtrack
to find my footprints in
your glistening eyes.

To admire the purity
of flame, I taste red berries
of firethorn. You recite
a sacred hymn.

No name was needed
for unknown agony of your mind.
Neither you will muse
nor I will write.

Every December snow
becomes a shroud.


number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 1 june 2023

What Was Invisible

It is.
It was not.
The volcano was collapsing.

What was happening,
and what wouldn't happen.
I didn't want you to be
lost among my poems.

The window weeps.
Moon won't come to sit
on the palm tree in the
sight of a lonely pen.

Death comes on tiptoes
for the flamingo,
stranding in meditation.
A pack of wolves was waiting.

Who will pay
for speaking the truth?


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 30 may 2023

Metaphysically

Drop for drop
moon bites. You were
ready to taste venom.

The honey prompts
to heal the wounds of
autopsy. Resuscitation
takes place.

Life sucks the peace―
dear god. Any other
place to busy the pains.

How to erase your
name from torn papers.
There is always a print.

It requires morning
breeze to stop the
scream.


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