Satish Verma, 10 may 2020
Wearing a straitjacket
you come out in open.
This was a black day.
You were not invited.
The economy smells of stale fever.
A pungent smoke rises
from the joints.
A decision drifts. Scare of
paper bomb stills―
the flow of tea.
There was a party.
People come and go. Skullcaps
galore. White on brown sugar.
There is no love lost between us.
Satish Verma, 9 may 2020
Schizoidly I walked
with the moon― by night/
when you slept―
in my eyes.
I will leave my shadow
behind, one day
in dark.
Death is no exit. There was
no clear message for withdrawl.
The enemies were drawing near.
I will not push the cart.
There was no bunker homicide.
Hidden marriage bears the fruit.
Truth was behind me
I am naked like a candlestick.
The religion puts out the light.
Satish Verma, 8 may 2020
I will call you
in a moon night-through
a fragile letter,
for extracting the end of beginning
to do a Houdini
to escape from the straitjacket
of your own commitment.
Decades on-
the house still carries the smudges
on the walls, where you
wrote dreams in vermilion
and later on singed yourself out-
to become disfigured.
For whom you laid seige,
your silence, becoming a song? A sculpted mutiny to
collect the thin bones asking
the moon to send more light.
Timeless a death waits in the shadows
for a fat answer.
I will spread the salt.
Satish Verma, 7 may 2020
It sets me off
when you bring up
afterlife.
With upturned
snout, the asp, enters
the hole.
Emptiness
fills the gaps. Somewhere
words join. Become a sentence.
Satish Verma, 6 may 2020
Standing in the centre of a circle,
trying to reach the periphery.
Was it a mistake―
to exhume the entombed
injury?
The bloody withdrawl
takes you back to brown
earth from the red sea.
How would you receive,
that you don't receive?
Your eyeslids flutter.
Sun will ask you for
shutting the eyes. The
glass breaks in your
globes.
Fibrosis cracks. You are
moving faster now in black rain.
Satish Verma, 5 may 2020
It was a cloudburst-
from your saddened eyes.
I want you to hurt me.
Like blood fingers writing
a name in sky-of
a towering fault.The sin
0f unabandoning a hymn.
The breach will swallow
the lamb.I would not know
of the Aquila, how
big were its wings.
Burn me in your eyes.
O goddess, why you always
look like a fireball?
O liberty, what was the color
of your torn gown? The aconites and anemones
have beautiful buttercups.
How would you drink the lethal dose?
Satish Verma, 4 may 2020
It was syntax
killing a kiss.
You play with a button.
You press a rose,
between the lips,
in black and white.
A nerve quivers
from head to toe.
Where the stars go when you cry.
Satish Verma, 3 may 2020
No comments. The eagle
is ready to pounce on
your future, when you were
preparing to consume your past.
Flesh eaters. They are going
far than far. I wanted
to do something strange
and new, for example―
like destroying myself. Dirty
thoughts. Always coming with
new legends. It is a deep
hole. Cavernous.
A dark blankness. You
are not arriving. And then you
let it go― sensually, facing
the unknown. An explosion,
waits for a new birth. A poem!
Satish Verma, 29 april 2020
What could you do
when the donor fatigue
is on display? And stops the succor?
You are no more hungry.
A Buddha sleeps nonchalantly.
Small, blue grapes leave
their mark on the plate.
It will take decades to unknow
the sexual orientation.
Breathing in the incense,
the cannabis rules.
You were inhaling the history.
A unisex quality
in the seedless pomes.
Satish Verma, 28 april 2020
You wanted tranquility
clean and sane,
scudding at persona
impact.
Some thinking disorder?
You start cutting yourself.
Collecting the body parts.
Yellow jasmine. I will know that
I do not know the fields of hate.
When your world falls apart,
what I would do.
Every day
I dig up a sin
with a knife.
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