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Poetry

	Satish Verma
	PROFILE About me Friends (3) Poetry (3973)

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Satish Verma, 3 october 2017

The Threshold

During the litany of questions,
I will talk to you,
about the innocence
of flowing river.

Here was your faultline.
You had washed your words in
the dirty stream.
Now, you were complaining about the winds.

I will not ask you
to kill the thrill of hurting
the defence. But
were you ready for a recount?

Black, as a burnt-out bread,
the time; will leave the wounds open.
I will write a poem
you will start screaming.

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Satish Verma, 2 october 2017

Flowering

To find the
essence of nothingness
you need to play a bluff.
The birthmark will come
without motherhood.

It lacks a commitment of
fatherless progeny. The stigma
arrives later when you meet
the moon at night.
I don't defend the puritan's version.

It was natural. Are we returning
to a thinking tree where parakeets
are nesting? The illegitimacy
of bold argument needs the
blessings of the birch.

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Satish Verma, 1 october 2017

Etching Your Profile

I will take you:
In claustrophobia,
head-to-toe,
fully immersed in death.
*
Where the horizon
meets the asteroid.
I will call, the near
earth, my prayer.
*
A distant touch
of your encounter, takes
a big toll. I have started
talking to moon.

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Satish Verma, 30 september 2017

Altercation

The father and child
Will not talk to
Each other.
There was a dispute.
Who was father?

*

Sometimes I wake up
In a dream, looking up
In your eyes.
Was it dark or moonlight?

*

Why you need to nurse
A pain? We will jump
In a river of inferno,
And drown together!

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Satish Verma, 29 september 2017

Emotionally

When it is a moonless Night, you Start repeating yourself Like a parakeet. * Give me a call, when You are distressed, I Will come as a cloud To read your eyes. * A rain drop On the tip of A thorn. Are you crying?

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Satish Verma, 28 september 2017

Catching Fire

When the rage
will not find an exit.
Would you come to
share my grief?

*

We left our bones,
our souls behind;
to remind the word;
it was a booby-trap.

*

There was a gun debate
all the times. To kill
or not to kill the
fantasies in infancy.

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Satish Verma, 27 september 2017

The Final Call

Answers remain elusive.
Stains were on shirt:
You went on wiping-
away the mirror.

Incarcerated,
biologically, he wanted
to get it changed.
The pecking order.

You were trying to
move away,
from yourself. Death
was the missing link.

Was it indecent
to start the self-inventory?
You start dancing
on the inaudible music.

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Satish Verma, 26 september 2017

Constraints

Self-immolation
near a waterfall?
Why did you leave your footwear
on the bank?

A women
turns into a snake.
Would you call
a snake charmer?

Tonight,
the moon was not sighted.
How can I start
my drink of elixir?

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Satish Verma, 25 september 2017

A Short Journey

Death after:
In a decisive moment,
you abduct a
template.

Of insular world,
to explore
the ethereal beauty
of nothingness.

Melting like a big
chunk of glacier,
watching the civility
of a nude.

You will never
forget me. My alchemy
scatters,
the golden nuggets.

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Satish Verma, 24 september 2017

Expanding

My palm,
collects the dark energy.
Reversing the code, I
am not going for a big crunch!

Who wants to reclaim
the thunder from the spent
cloud? A pristine pure,
hot and wetted moon,

will never decide the fate.
Tonight I am going to drift
intentionally towards the
antigravity. Your eyes are

going to become epicenter
of a quake. A desire had
hundred moons. The galaxy
was vast and deep. The

world was still revolving
around the phallic symbols,
altering the walking pace
of the ruins.