Poezja

	Satish Verma
	PROFIL O autorze Przyjaciele (3) Poezja (3973)

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Satish Verma, 23 maja 2018

Recollection

After the prank
call, the death returns to room q
for her friend.
*
You were drinking
moon in dark. A door opens
for the guest.
*
There would be
no elegy. A poet will die
today, anonymously.

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Satish Verma, 21 maja 2018

Grains Of Wood

Read me a poem.
The lightening has touched again─
my raw nerves.

*

I say, don’t
climb the terrace. Bougaivillea
has made it a home.

*

I have come,
a longway to meet my lover,
the solitary moon.

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Satish Verma, 20 maja 2018

Eating circles in the sky
I ask you to step outside
the space. It was time!

I will alter the succession
of flesh to spirit.
Sky was overcast, when
mercury was falling.

The thread breaks. Your
theory falls without wings.
Chandeliers chase the─
shadows on the walls.

You start collecting the
tomorrow and the morrows.
There were no more yester-
days. Ashes will stay in urns.

The grass remains wet with dew!

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Satish Verma, 19 maja 2018

Colloquy

Will you wait for me
till the moon parts the clouds
and the lake looks serene?

A reticent encounter;
I want to speak through─
silence. A shadow play will do.

Mystic nights weave─
a conspiracy. The insects
hover like words.

A lamp? No I will
burn my bridges to illuminate
the river.

Between the math─
and a story lies
the bloody corpse.

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Satish Verma, 18 maja 2018

Along The Dots

What would you seek
from the collection─
of lyrics?
It is getting dark.

Dismantling the notes,
I heard, when tears
were sitting dead in─
the crying eyes.

Life reeks with the violence,
from inside. You wanted
one more religion to
atone for the stink.

But the signs will not
convey. I become the war,
the missile to destroy
my own kingdom.

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Satish Verma, 17 maja 2018

One Cold Morning

After a─
good shower, moon was
braiding the clouds.

*

Dawn, December.
Recently washed trees getting ready
to drink the sun.

*

The dew drips.
I collect the elixir
to die again.

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Satish Verma, 16 maja 2018

Boudaries

By genetic accident─
I fall in your way.
A city sleeps between the arms.

Will you give me
a nickel of memory?
I have lost my home.

What do I do
with the moon? The night
has called for the sun.

Making a nest for
the sparrows. Want to
hear the domestic voices.

Here, the dreams
go. I am selling the
family silver.

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Satish Verma, 14 maja 2018

The Closed Window

When─
you were taking lovers,
a tunnel collapsed.

*

The vision
rolls back. The moon
releases the dark secrets.

*

A collaborator
gives in. The street spreads
the names.

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Satish Verma, 10 maja 2018

The Birth Pangs

It is now.
The call of unknown.
A doting mother─
writes a child.

I am, collecting─
the words. To speak for the
death, which was hestitant
to come,
against the will of grass.

The grassroots diplomacy,
catches the wind.
Abandons the footpath,
goes to the marbled floor.

What do I do─
at dusk? Become wordless
like a deep sea─
waiting for the moon
to bring the tides?

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Satish Verma, 9 maja 2018

The Stinging Withdrawl

Barefoot you reach
for candidacy to
get partitioned.
The hatred had divided
the grass.

The suspense
was intense when
earth failed to
accept the─
defeat.

A drinking─
cloud will settle
the score with
the flames.

Consequently the─
sky falls on
all the roses, making
your vision blurred.