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.
Satish Verma, 27 april 2020
Cruel times,
and the walls are rising.
The rivals.Medusae versus columns.
Snakes for hairs
opposed to stones.
The bell shaped body with stinging
tongues.
I will not speak.
This is the gift from the womb of
evil.The blues.
Wounded by you.
The color changes.Sunrise to sunset.
You stay in sunroom, in dumbness.
Chilling poverty.
You shake violently.
Give me the skin to cover my bones,
I am bleeding black.You know the tilted moon
still crying.
Satish Verma, 26 april 2020
It was not ending, not beginning
this fracas,
to search the exit.
Where to go where to.
The window
has jumped out
from the moon. what was
your ultimate? What was?
The cold-blooded
creepy object
discharging the virulent
flames virulent.
Migratory ink
always lands on the
paper, would not
move the words would not.
Satish Verma, 25 april 2020
The water breaks.
Do you hear the voices?
I will ask my half self.
The pretension sends
neuroimages.
I am going home to read my horoscope.
Words grieve. I
have done a dream.
Silence sins.
Satish Verma, 24 april 2020
Coming back with
nipples and fangs, all
the black visions.
Those lunging at the
helpless prey, a hundred arms,
pythonic- to squeeze
the life out of
the rising voice.
You were my trust,
my secret, then why this
curse,
of your signs, your signature,
your face?
You were me, I was you.
We were not different, I open
my chest to receive the bullets
the stone, the stick.
The words.They swim
like dolphins, whistling
crossing the horizons
reaching beyond the colored dresses.
Satish Verma, 23 april 2020
Your hands
start a fire―
thinking beyond the rainbow.
The next hearing
will encompass the unheard sins
of islands.
In spot, you open
the lock and let in the strange voices,
wearing the hidden masks
of untold flaws.
The system starts crumbling
and you wash your feet
in tumbling water
of unsound river, held in abeyance.
No house was left
without ashes.
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