Satish Verma, 6 may 2019
A fact of time. The 
relationship 
has a price. 
 
There was a deep 
moral crisis, when I said, 
stay poor. 
 
Money makes you 
dishonest. Why don’t 
you start giving away? 
 
The secular thing. 
Were you tolerant 
of my protests? 
 
Ethics were changing. 
Why should not I be 
a very sad man?
Satish Verma, 5 may 2019
There was too much, violence in the 
house. I walk through the pathways― 
 
of divided family. As if waylaid 
by the thugs. I am stranded bereft of― 
 
all my achievements, fixating at withdrawl. 
 
The menu 
alters. 
I go 
hungry. 
The toothache persists. Life is 
still.The vision seethes without wings. 
Pulsating silence. 
There is no voice. 
 
Like mannequins, we dance 
without geniality. The master 
is nowhere. Who was pulling 
the strings?
Satish Verma, 4 may 2019
Nurturing, 
a leaker on the prowl, 
to become glamorous 
killer. 
 
The parting, 
of ways in a jungle of 
principles, life takes 
a full turn, 
 
sharply. The ascension 
of dark matter, 
believes: it’s time has come 
to engulf the world. 
 
Realization, 
comes very late in acute 
labour pains, throwing 
up the agenda. 
 
Taking a call 
of inevitable, the 
dignity holds on to 
the fringes of peace.
Satish Verma, 3 may 2019
Some things are not said, 
uncoupling the cut glass. 
Flowers will not come 
from the new moon. 
 
You collect the hundred 
loops from your hair, 
and part the heat. An 
ancestor turns in his grave. 
 
Collect the grapes, fallen 
plums from my garden. 
I am not sure, how long the 
spring stays. You were 
not ready for the 
rocks, for sure. 
 
I am scraping the song 
written for a tree. 
Cannot decipher the sap.
Satish Verma, 2 may 2019
A double helix 
uncoils. There was a 
beheading in Saudi. 
 
You ask for the 
ecstasy in spaceship 
singing the oddity. 
 
It was in the proximity 
of a brick kiln, that you 
wanted to take a sunbath. 
 
It was not private, not 
intimate. You had spread 
the profanities in bazaar. 
 
How many shots, would 
you collect from the, 
sinned city of big names?
Satish Verma, 1 may 2019
Abetting the suicide of 
a bystander, your impacted 
diamond, downs the hips. 
 
What had you done to 
me? I will not hold you responsible 
for the ache. 
 
There was the aging moon, 
still lingering in the― 
crack of dawn. 
 
I don’t close the door. 
Will wait for the big question 
from the exotic death― 
 
of dark matter, which 
defied the relationship 
of unique absurdities.
Satish Verma, 30 april 2019
To repel the slice of 
hope, the patriarch 
falls midway. 
 
Pushed to the end of 
leaf, a moth is propelled 
in the mouth of deeps. 
 
The boat starts sinking 
in the age of doubts 
and dementia. You 
 
will need to manage 
your fires. A hollow 
rustling of slogans will, 
 
not repeal the canorous 
sounds coming from the 
orgy. Life takes a turn. 
 
It asks for an insane man 
to change the world.
Satish Verma, 29 april 2019
This was an interesting dialogue 
going on, 
between me and a ghost. It was 
telling me that I love you 
because you are not a virgin. 
 
Was it a good thing, someone 
asks? The game was fair 
but the players were dishonest. 
 
The bared chest, with scars 
and raw wounds, tells everything 
about blue wars. 
 
The words float on water, 
like dragonflies. Do you think 
it was impossible to convey 
the agony by phraseology of metaphors?
Satish Verma, 28 april 2019
Releasing the pain. 
Your eyes laugh, 
when you cry. 
 
* 
 
An ancient city 
wakes up. A bird, a lizard 
and a beast. 
 
* 
 
A triangular hollow 
of the valley 
throws up the moon.
Satish Verma, 27 april 2019
No questions were taken 
from unforgiving sword. 
 
And the dead horse. 
 
A river runs through your body 
defining the wet castles. 
 
You look into the eyes of the invader. 
 
The palace intrigues dig in. 
You cannot meet the princess. 
 
 
The inevitability of war looms large. 
You will finally know that every 
body is mortal. The remains 
are meant for the inconceivable. 
 
The scripture versus a blank 
page are on the collision course.
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