Satish Verma, 28 stycznia 2023
Kissing under the
mistletoe. Moon puckers
wearing a hijab.
The creed tumbles,
for vast and open space,
to remove zeros.
Treat me as I was.
The shadow falls on lake
when time freezes.
Satish Verma, 27 stycznia 2023
My charm lies. You
will not come in this poem
without toes.
An amputee runs
on blades to wipe out
tears of colossus.
How do you know, the
karma always walks bare
foot in dry river?
Satish Verma, 26 stycznia 2023
This was eerie
in blue seizures. Half-mother
was ready to defend.
The sun, spins the hot
ash overnight. The waste land
will never answer.
You wake and lose
the rare event of alchemy.
Gold turns to base metal.
Satish Verma, 24 stycznia 2023
Words of violence,
violence of words. From where
these letters come?
The duplicity of
message unfolds the snaky
chess play of destiny.
Dreams, they will fly
away like sparrowS in a
troupe of actors.
Satish Verma, 23 stycznia 2023
Will go sepia, if
you are black. No shipwreck was
visible after.
Let colosseum
break in, under the glass ceiling.
Come September.
The end dance begins.
There was no cracks in the
moon, lips waiting.
Satish Verma, 22 stycznia 2023
Between us was
left a prelude. I open
the ruined book.
Why there was other
pain in eyes. Differentia?
Of unknown feel?
A creeper climbs,
your small window of psyche.
Jets ethereal spray.
Satish Verma, 20 stycznia 2023
Is it sacrilege?
Half-men were becoming―
predators? Insects?
That transcends the
sounds of agitated earth.
You don't bend to kiss.
A perverted sense―
prevails. Listen to rustling
of darkened night.
Satish Verma, 18 stycznia 2023
You had failed me―
god, when angst was burning
my fingers to write.
A poem. Mauve-blue
lips go into a seizure,
to fight the demons.
Delphinium's spur
trembles without any wind. An
angel has fallen.
Satish Verma, 17 stycznia 2023
Mysterious weather.
You cannot breath in rose
garden. Time crawls.
You cannot smile.
The raid on cuckoo's nest was
disastrous. No eggs.
You can see through
walls. Undressing was a ritual
to shed all the norms.
Satish Verma, 16 stycznia 2023
The flame springs to
burn my hand. Blood drips drop
by drop from a hole.
I am signing red.
Inertia sits in the veins.
Do not know any god.
End and beginning
have become one. I will
calculate sins.
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