Satish Verma, 12 march 2019
Sleepwalking in unlit
night, grabbing the
moon, for a bite.
Very difficult to chew
the contradictions, to relieve
the heartache.
Endless drumming of
woodpecker to mark territory.
A war begins for insects.
It was the Adam’s instinct.
I will not fall on
the burning coals.
In a dewdrop you will
see a miniature tree,
shaping out for the sun.
Satish Verma, 11 march 2019
A fuzzy fear descends.
You become ensconced―
in the smell of a
paranoia.
The saltcutter will forego
the idiosyncrasy
and start collecting the oil
from the dome.
A stain on the shirt
spreads, covers
the heart in distress.
Codas were waiting.
Do not burn the book.
Go in a lily pond for a ―
script. The different shades
of flesh will be revealed.
The divine sin will ask
for a retribution for ―
the withdrawl syndrome.
Satish Verma, 10 march 2019
The plunging line was―
going deeper, cutting close to
the bone. I was preparing
myself to be martyred
alive.
Prod me viciously, my
love, I want to die in your arms before
the dawn. It should be
too good to be true
for you.
Waterbirds. They are ready
to take a flight. Petal
by petal, sun will send you
the message. I am going to fade away
in moonlight.
Water hyacinth had the death secret.
Knife me gently. I will
meet my Apollo in dark.
Satish Verma, 9 march 2019
Encountering a dislocated self,
here it goes, the “I”,
flicking out the name
which will reach nowhere.
The foreword will not
disclose the contents of
the book. It was reading
only a footnote.
I place a searing moon
on your plate. You can take
a slice of it and gulp
your agony.
The arrival does not finish
the journey. There are far―
away worlds beyond
your fantasies.
Satish Verma, 8 march 2019
Talking points at ground zero
trap the heat. The tyranny
knows no bounds.
Trauma of awaiting liberation
was intense. No truth was
ready to accept the bends.
I feel cheated when,
the dark gives a sermon about
the hidden dawn.
The hair burn in unmade
bed, taking a cue from
the beast, who will not sleep.
Where do the white stars
go, when the sun rises? I
will ask the crying lake.
Satish Verma, 7 march 2019
When clouds were
drawing graffiti on sky,
where were you?
Untamed manners
in a profound grief
brings back the black buck.
The buck stops here,
fallen on the golden ax.
Get me the lantern.
Satish Verma, 5 march 2019
Scratching the rusted face
of the dust storm-
to read the message.
I have come very far,
from the old stinks.
It was not the escape.
The unshaped sap,
spills from the cut end-
of treetops. I gather your cones.
The fall begins abruptly.
It was a landslide of
leaf drop. Yellow and brown.
I wait for the red.
It reminds me of blood
dripping from your poem.
Satish Verma, 4 march 2019
That obscene stare
aggravates the silicon
thrust. You become a victim
of an upheaval.
The white dwarfs have
invaded the blackboard.
You can get a glimpse
of unsolicited rape.
A cyanide capsule
hangs on your chest.
Will you commit a suicide
after an unnatural kill?
It takes a toll. The
abuse of the fingers.
Instead of writing a name
you print the cave.
Satish Verma, 2 march 2019
Time entombed, a negative
film, showing the
white bones of
a black moon.
I am surprised, how
a jungle of humanity, lives
with predators―
uncomplainingly.
A lost genre will find
new syllables to start a
heliographic script to
make history.
There has to be some
reason, in the lamb days
to become a wolf.
Satish Verma, 1 march 2019
On ladder, you climb
for espionage, with
a feeling of an evil.
Somewhere, somebody
pulls the strings,
at arterial roads.
You put yourself
in harm’s way for
exotic blooms.
A civil disobedience, starts.
A bone of contention was
the muscle of love.
One on one
tooth for tooth,
lips for lips.
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