Satish Verma, 6 june 2022
Blowing up a no-show
you walk out of
procession of primates.
Moon and memories
and million of years
to become a full being.
Cognition gained,
I touch the raw nerves
of liquid stones.
Roasted nuts,
I will taste you,
once I revise my vocabulary.
The laced stars,
one on one, I meet
the dark holes of your galaxy.
O god, at equal. I will
call you one day to
climb down from my shoulder.
Every age wipes out the footprints.
Satish Verma, 5 june 2022
What was that in your
eyes, which still haunts me in
evening of life.
You will not say, I
will not know where the story of
wailing song bird ends.
The first dark cloud of
Monsoon, becomes messenger―
of the young drowned moon.
Let's go and collect
the gifts of parting kisses.
Deliverance stops.
Satish Verma, 4 june 2022
With a hushed tone
the shadow of the full moon
falls in the blue lake.
Stampede brings into sight―
another murky tale of fast
disappearing earth.
You must not hear of―
me again, at the pile of
gifts from the red Mars.
Knowing you in end―
to unknow my destiny of
walking on hot coals.
Satish Verma, 3 june 2022
Hurting yourself,
You won't say anything about
falling notches. It bruises, it
bleeds.
You will condole,
and like sundew, trap my poems
in backfoot.
Explicitly I will ask,
never stop crying.
Your neighbourly pain will descend.
Its lips become dirty,
when facial expression of moon
alters.
I want to change
my religion, drumming up
the nuances of refusal.
It wrongs you,
when an acceptance,
means never.
Satish Verma, 2 june 2022
Why am I so sad?
I asked the waning moon.
The sun started flirting.
The vellum― still carries
the imprint, where you had
pressed hennas hands.
I came out once of
myself to look at me
from the falling star.
You would never know.
How had you cheated yourself once―
by praying for death.
Satish Verma, 31 may 2022
Like a dwarf planet,
you follow me in distant
sky, so near― so far.
I love you like poet
Pablo Neruda. My eyes in―
your dreams, wide open.
When the tears would wait
to bloom like hidden flowers―
under the steady rocks.
Not me, not you, were
aware of the rising moon,
between snow and sleet.
Satish Verma, 30 may 2022
Nobody was bigger than
your destination, you
were obsessed with the birth
of a new caste.
I was very angry
at me, to be myself.
We will not
meet at one dot
of separatism.
The arousal upsets
the mongrels. The wagging
starts liberally.
We will not exclude
the romance of delusion,
while interpreting the spirit
of the book.
Living by yourself
the inadequacy will
indulge in self adoration.
Where will I go?
Satish Verma, 29 may 2022
I can only offer you small things―
like a coma,
a full stop.
Parenthesis―
or a hyphen.
To lit up the sparks
in visuals.
And no page was left unread
of my life.
Walk and talk
with me― to unsolve
the twisted humps
of times.
Your assets
had failed you.
You stand alone not to return back.
Satish Verma, 28 may 2022
Today you were
not you, sitting in your
cozy nest.
Talking of ethics
of pomp and rituals.
Your pageant was
fake. A disquieted observer
was being observed.
Everything is not true.
Sometimes human judgment fails.
You revert ―
to your native sense.
Morality again was nailed
on the stake. You are burned
alive for putting up the acoustics.
You hear nothing
because nothing was said.
A lull before the half-saints appear.
Satish Verma, 27 may 2022
In eternal quest
of peace I will find you one―
day in flowing tears.
Doors are reticent.
Blue stars were melting. Poverty
will take the back seat.
I promised you, I
will never hurt you even
in my wild dreams.
Take my hand to stop
the tremors of earth. The moon
was dying on naked beach.
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28 november 2024
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Camouflage.Eva T.