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Poetry

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

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Satish Verma, 1 february 2017

Self-Watch

Have not crossed the street
in many years
to greet you.

A slice of moon
leaves footprints in blood.
Maintaining the perfection
you start giving names to trees.

Paraplegia:
you start dismanteling the life
in search of romance with death
for immersing the dreams.

Take hold of my arms
I want to invent your portrait
in sands of nocturne.

Drink the milk of silence.
It is dark, but soothing.
Go to sleep.

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Satish Verma, 30 january 2017

Walking Toeless

Stone by stone you kill me.
Petal by petal I die -

holding a scalpel
to unwrite my name.

Violence
erupts among words.
A temple breaks.
O goddess! don't cry beyond silence.

The infant's milk
spills in darkness.
Antiquity raises a wall
around the mother.

I am vanishing now,
freezing my assets.

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Satish Verma, 29 january 2017

Watching Our Warts

Sloping down in gold pursuit
of a bruised city,
sons of nameless fathers
were changing the generic mandate.

I am becoming fluvial
going on a muted odyssey
to find unmarked graves.

Slaughtering
your own lines, in praise of end-
which came very soon;
before the windows altered the moon.

Genes spilled on the road
recalling the wounded
son whose lexicon took him
to war with the meanings.

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Satish Verma, 28 january 2017

Fierce Mooning

Trotting along; fighting death -
with delaying techniques.
Chemo had failed.

Weeping Ashoka, how do I
name you differently?
I may not see you again.

I am hurt, very badly.
Absolutely rooted, firmly
in autumn. My leaves were falling.

Pushing back the interface
between smiles and tears;
the trespasser goes to moon.

It was traditional,
garlanding the poet-
who had killed his muse.

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Satish Verma, 27 january 2017

Survival

Unslept-
hangman, flees from the noose.
The day had come to execute.
A thought had become a fear
but fear was not a thought.

Naked in the moon
a wolf wants move of something
leaning on the hills of thirst,
bitten by the views of cemetery.

The landscape
was changing. You want to cover your head
with a topi, standing on the edge
of a lake before you are drowned
under the burning eyelids.

A Buddha smiles from
the shelf. How can you fill the emptiness
of a bowl, which has
hundred holes?

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Satish Verma, 26 january 2017

Walking Into You

Tonight
the nectar will be spread
to tame a random tormentor.

Black and white,
I never saw my father weeping.
Lonely he was.

I am
my own creation today
weather beaten. Confession to -

confession, unread. When the-
storm was tethered,
there was flooding and neck deep-

you were in tears. Am cannibalizing
my own poems, to write a new line.
It was a midnight moon.

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Satish Verma, 25 january 2017

Returning Favour

Will pursue
the star killed by a limb.
A black hole
is going to devour him.

What was ahead now
in the sea of reverse pain?
You were knocking out
your own creation.

In the hunger's wake
will you stop eating your own
words and say something
of the locked doors of eyes?

I cannot sing the scars
and unmask the fires.
It is gratifying when you are silent,
and still you are heard.

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Satish Verma, 23 january 2017

Raging Spring

Siblings
will take care of the morgue.
I am going to hang my god
today. Howling winds
are crashing into my breath.

In the sea
of flags, the white death walks on
naked bodies of faith. Innocence
will take a back seat
listening to the roaring assault
of blues.

Was it a hymn to drink
the religion of rage?
The men sitting in the glass vases
worshiping the rising sun in awe
with folded hands.

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Satish Verma, 22 january 2017

Grief Unspoken

It was the interplay
between shadow and moon.
An encephalopathy
in ring of fire?

The blast was the tipping
point of your identity. Now
you don’t recognize yourself
amid the books.

Grieving can start now.
Tossed from temple roof
on to mound of ash, you
stand on your grave for final count.

Again your voice will drown
in a green pond. It was a
prelude to a voicelessness for
ever. Irretrievable was, a bird song.

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Satish Verma, 21 january 2017

Holding On

Bounty
of landfall.
I am collecting your berries.

The castle
has connived with the moat
to end an era.

The first step
ends the journey.
An avatar has accepted the bribe.

Gather the tents
and return the sky.
My morale is sinking very low.

The dream
will wash the eyes
to read the book again.