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	Satish Verma
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Satish Verma, 12 czerwca 2015

A Tear Drop

Dying daily in eternity
for it to be,
a tear dropp held all the pain of life.
You were lost in words,
between the phrases
time was in, time was out.

The color, the theme was fading,
a seduced century
contriving the reasons to commit
the destruction of self-being.
I was struggling to empty my mind
completely.

To remain human in the loneliness
of ruins
I want to walk straight.

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Satish Verma, 11 czerwca 2015

Buried Silence

Blaze on the horizon was spreading.
No peak was left green,
time was running out.

Courier had left without a message
carrying cyanide capsules,
to kill or get killed.

My grey sky stuck with silent clouds
will wait for the stars.
The bride will leave under the shade of shine.

Serum was darkening
its milk of poison.
Blood was thinner than water.

The buried silence was turning
brown with pain.
Bruises had outraged the words.

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Satish Verma, 9 czerwca 2015

Falling Seed

This world was too much.
in him.
Sometimes he wanted
to go insane.
(He was talking to himself).

He cared too much
of things and people around him,
but it splits
like a dry pod, the life,
in throes of running
to save a falling seed.

Yields his whole earned silence,
starts turning the pages
of a soiled book
lost in the attic of grief.

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Satish Verma, 8 czerwca 2015

Sneaking Gods

Reticent were moon, sky and birds.
A pall of gloom spread on the trees.
Stoically I rode on the wings of pain,
to watch the descending values.

A timeless truth separates the charm from lies,
and I long for the generosity of past
which could connect us to future.

A flame burns the eyes.
When we took the wrong road?
Still the fever is rising.

Gods sneak into our affairs.
A firebird flies in the space with long span of shadow,
the helpless victim lies in wait, to be dispatched.

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Satish Verma, 7 czerwca 2015

Sprouting Seeds

Turnover my secret past
I have to dig up my future
In the hour of crumbling walls and dark
clouds.

Pale moon becomes a beacon
in another version of solitude
where nobody speaks of sores and premature
death.

I stay away from twinkling stars,
from the blossoms of traveling night
and winds which are moving towards the
sky.

Sullied words will go for a conspiracy
making a ghost of my garden
where seeds are sprouting.

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Satish Verma, 5 czerwca 2015

Buried Silence

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Satish Verma, 2 czerwca 2015

Virtue

Simple light I assume, I needed
nothing more, nothing less:
as I felt tired under the battered shade of a
tamarind tree.

Sour sweet pulp, sticky and acidic
life had held me by throat;
and I sang like a blue bird
in a golden cage.

The voice in me was different
neither of a stricken lamb,
nor of a green childhood
but a roaring sea.

From the surface I was rising
in sun, before ship comes
with cargo of grief,
and sorrow and pain.

You know, I don’t think, I think.
Death is taking lease on my name.
in other world,
where my counterpart is fighting for virtue.

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Satish Verma, 31 maja 2015

Tears Were Never Sweet

It drips -
my ocean.
One dropp at a time
from the eyes of a grey stone.
Flows the anguish
in a cave.

A fallen grace from sky,
flickering like an earthen lamp.

Do not go
heart broken into crowd.
Tears were never sweet.

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Satish Verma, 30 maja 2015

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Satish Verma, 29 maja 2015

Longing

Oh God
I don’t believe you
for irretrievable sins in me.

My grandchild was asking
why did you have to go?
I had no answer.

My eyes were damp.
Okay, cannot hold you grandpa,
will you come again?

I was the end,
I was the beginning.
I kissed the burning tears of my small chit.
I said, let me go,
Set me free,
I will come, one day in you,
you are me.