Satish Verma, 7 april 2021
This age of depression―
Do you hear―
the unheard sounds?
I always bleed―
in the books. Some words
won't stay for the sake of propriety.
Nothing is held back,
not even modesty. The biggest
savagery, of being a human.
And a flock of ravens will
go on hungry,
not feeding on debased carrion.
The baby moon will
not smile. History has
cheated us out of the truth.
The heat, noises and
dust. Every face was covered
in soot. I cannot recognize myself.
Satish Verma, 6 april 2021
Unstitch my memories,
I have come home,
My bag was full of worries.
How will I spread my age?
An old man reading the palms―
cannot find the glasses.
After a mutiny, nothing was
left of a hissing pyramid.
Tell me the shape of tomorrow
to come. In dark I have
to bury my name.
Satish Verma, 4 april 2021
The collective
scream of peacocks,
brings the night horror.
The horses run―
in morning blue.
The call has come.
Cotton wool on―
retina. I cannot read
your command.
To immerse
my god in your lake,
the wait must be long.
Satish Verma, 3 april 2021
It was time to
modify the heritage―
in a delicate bid to
aid the dying.
A wrenching decision was―
to ask for an apology
from a living god.
I will crack, but
not come to you, to
invoke the grace of mercy.
The twilight sits at
my door to seek the nemesis.
Why did I swallow the moon
without asking the sky's womb?
Cocooned. Afraid
to show the scarred skin.
Your words bloom in dark,
like a cereus. I collect the fame
to light the candle in wind.
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.
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