Satish Verma, 2 april 2021
Can you contain it;
the call,
one animal?
*
A baby hurt,
sometimes―
you enjoy.
*
The full moon was―
as poor as,
a church mouse.
*
Sitting in court
watching a
finch play with water.
Satish Verma, 1 april 2021
Farce,
you think―
you will not come back
like Argentine
dinosaur
130,000 pounds
That was
metaphysical
There is no space sacred,
left to die
No time, cause
or substance
You can speak to me, unspeaking
without wires
There is no carrot
for the god
Satish Verma, 31 march 2021
Sundown, the masks
come out and a game of
perfidy begins.
Words disappear. A
long pause. You will kill two
birds with one stone.
You and ultimate.
No threats. Only the
heat and flames of summer.
In a dark cave, the icicles
form a white deity.
The religion of the body
and flesh, has no god,
no prayer.
The candle burns―
without a wick, melts
into a blue lake.
Satish Verma, 27 march 2021
A spotless white moon
was hiding the―
ink spilled on the apron.
*
The pretty nouns
scramble for hope―
if there was any.
*
You could not undo―
what a rose―
did, in broad daylight.
*
A town lives
under a tree, in shade.
The ants come and go.
Satish Verma, 26 march 2021
Escaping the unknown
becomes easier
when you listen
to the echos of dark.
My god says, the peeled
oranges will feed the
starved moon, when you
invite the rains.
Invisible hills will send
the bronze poems to you,
once the black night starts
drinking the green water.
The nightmare looms large―
climbs up my chest to
lick the isles, throwing me in
parenthesis, failing the commas.
Satish Verma, 25 march 2021
Unbelievability.
I am nudged to shift
the centre of gravity.
The flames are touching
both of us. A civilized frisking
to unmask the secret.
I look at the dark
sky to plant the stars.
Unreached and unreachable
were you― in the carnival.
A creepy night nods.
I must wait for your zodiac
to blink and release the
incense of dew drops.
There was no destination.
I am a surfer, will not skirt
a thunderbolt.
Blood stains will appear later.
Satish Verma, 24 march 2021
Bliss of blue
and white, balancing
the dark.
This was my curse,
and this was my fate―
mixing the colors.
Do not go farther,
in sea, the fishes
have swallowed the sun.
The park-teachers
and path finders were
not aware of foot-faults.
The word stoppers
were abound. I have yet
to find an ear, drunk as water lily.
Satish Verma, 23 march 2021
It was not true,
Truvia. The seed leaves
are not true leaves.
Ifs and whys were not
relevant, when
you become mute.
This country was never―
at war with itself.
The salt lake had dried up.
Two little girls hang
from a smiling tree.
Dreams are incredible.
Satish Verma, 21 march 2021
1.
You don't have to walk
in self-discipline
and abstention.
To transcend
the prying eyes and
rub off the naked shoulder
of moon.
2.
Would you come back
in dark to light the lamps
in my eyes?
I need no pain
to write the epitaph of
an undying poet
in jungle of wild screams.
3.
There was no beginning
no end. So from where
you will start reciting
the beautiful saga?
I don't think of your
luxury to pick up my craft
and hack me to hundred stanzas.
Satish Verma, 20 march 2021
Your limbs tremble―
when you stand erect
to end the silence.
Nobody wants the clamor put to sleep.
It was a direct insult
of surgical kill.
When it was light, you start
covering yourself, caught in a vise.
Every dialogue was worth living.
You can only pray for the wrongs,
come to right.
A secret of tongue was
out. Ladders and snakes,
snakes and ladders, were not meant
for you.
The ambulances has always written the
letters― in reverse.
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