Satish Verma, 26 may 2021
Ah, it was not a diamond
ring. In your palm was sitting
a god, watching you disintegrate.
Your hands, tell the
agony of lifting darkness, when
the full moon was rising.
The author speaks.
Not the ink, about the nomadic words
which have come to bleed on paper.
Tortured leaves of―
autumn are gathering to celebrate,
this side of the fall.
Like attaining the liberation
of sea urchins, reaching
the table to sip water.
There was no saliva.
Satish Verma, 24 may 2021
Mind-set of fractured
faith, falters.
Now you want to ignore the god.
The bald cypress
hides the buttress roots.
Eagle was flying very low.
The clouds speak
in favor of sky. You cannot
heal the sun's wounds.
Flames are mine.
You burn the poppies to
float the arrogance.
Half burnt-out letters
of a lover, make a glory
of withdrawal of summer.
Satish Verma, 22 may 2021
Seething with agony.
Unsinned―
the creatures were asking for
human rights.
Tracing the spiritual odyssey.
You have landed in a
volcano pit, looking for
the first autumn.
Smudgeless you walk in a
coal mine. It plunks. There
were spots in the sun. Bragging
was coming to the fore.
I am closing the book, not
to read again the drooling
script. Ages were harvesting
the tunnels.
Satish Verma, 21 may 2021
Consensual chemistry―
you were entwined with
a dervish.
Banana grove. A breather
for upside downs. Moons falling
from the sky.
A body sails.
You start wooing, clean
and genteel autumn―
for undisputed courtesy.
The fear of bliss. You
have a death wish. Empty chair.
You will not come back.
I think this is poetry.
Satish Verma, 20 may 2021
When you were you,
me picked up the words-
you did't say.
You stir up a verse,
incendiary enough-
to start the chakras of sorrow.
Why to believe in
reincarnation, when carnations
in your eyes won't die.
A bloodbath for
believing in nothingness-
of innocence in the folds of time.
The seeds were in mode
of dispersal, of hate
and insults.The crowds were thinning.
A strange thing was going to happen.
Dark sky would descend
randomly to capture the speed.
Satish Verma, 19 may 2021
It should not have happened.
But it has. For a god
of dreams, there was
no paradise.
You had become an alien
to your body. Split scenarios.
A fight going on―
between two selves.
Every morn, a shock comes,
a revelation pops up. You
fall, a victim of civil war―
in surprise.
The headlights on, you
were driving straight into
the bright sun to burn
your wings.
Satish Verma, 18 may 2021
A long night―
unending was,
the wait for the sickle moon.
Midnight,
shooting stars―
you are still breathing?
Doleful cry―
of the crickets. Why
the rain has stopped?
I was talking―
to the clouds
for a favor.
Satish Verma, 17 may 2021
For a lake feel
to find the four-leaf clover
grazing your absence.
But the road does not run.
And I cannot reach
the wicked rapture.
Where the gray sky
meets the water's shadow
every wave weeps for the moon.
Like a dragonfly skimming
the import, floats on the
dampened page of life.
You will not be able to sleep
in this full moon.
The pilgrim hawk was flying
very low.
Satish Verma, 16 may 2021
When I asked you to
drop the millstone―
a bunch of dreams,
you wanted to move away from sun.
Building melatonin,
after visiting the shrine―
in dark. The deity has
started taking a both.
Helium― the noble gas.
How high will it take you,
in a balloon, which was rising
towards the Mars?
Crashed. I break into
pieces of terra cotta. I don't
want to leave the earth. Spread
my ashes on the beach.
Satish Verma, 14 may 2021
You were comfortable,
when you abused in native speech.
After the conviction,
there was smoke and ash.
Bring down the white plumes
from the volcano's crater,
and begin the swan song
for the sake of vanishing grace.
It is my turn now to
walk in penumbra, wrapping
off the dark core of human mind
and give a prelude to matephors.
Below the wings, the
trapped wind lifts the fallacy
of a fall when you were
already buried in a shadowless flesh.
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