Satish Verma, 30 maja 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 maja 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 maja 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 maja 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.
Satish Verma, 26 maja 2022
Mounting surveillance
on myself after snapping
hyphenated bond.
I will set you free
from the white paper, carrying―
your beautiful face.
The slanting eyes
will haunt me in dark, I will
turn around and cry.
When did rift emerge―
while playing the moons? The lake
was ready to drown me.
Satish Verma, 25 maja 2022
Sometimes words
are very cruel. You
cannot chew them.
For the spirit of―
dying moon, you
wear a death mask.
Sitting on a wind cheater, in
tower of pain, you
want to understand the breed
of conflicts, fuelling the duels.
Yes or no, you have
to come with me. Stones
will not shame you anymore.
The black spots―
of dream-dropped roses,
smell of family dust in the
eyes of white ghosts.
You fatten the flames.
Satish Verma, 24 maja 2022
You must act now,
to deceive yourself. Laugh,
when you want to cry
in blue silence.
Getting ready to choke on
the unspoken words―
of committing a sin of speaking
the truth.
Unaltered ego of lynx eyes
goes through the walls of double-blinds.
The drugs were fake and
faith was dead.
With whom you want to
share the brickbats? The cheats
will ride the colossus and
the new moon will rise red.
Satish Verma, 23 maja 2022
The stones will speak for
river bed― a perfect home
for drowned principles.
Like shrew you enter
the belly of jewels to talk
to a bronze Buddha.
He stands in vigil,
your godhead, after the thieves
plundered the frames.
The small hands pointing
the pistols at the heads of
ancient fathers.
Satish Verma, 22 maja 2022
The dust to dust phase
in between, you
did't want a self-destruction
to resurrect a dying myth.
Only God knows. Why
there was only the body language
to explain the miracle.
You wake up a frog
from hibernation. There was
no drought. Plenty of rains.
No nightmares. One has to change
the climate shift.
A muted denial stays
in throat. You wanted to say
the whole truth about life,
which never was uttered.
Scoliosis tilts the water
balance. You cannot carry the
vessels on head. Doubts
would play on the script.
Author had promised to live again.
Satish Verma, 21 maja 2022
Just wanted to be
myself today, ripped after
the apocalypse―
of stainless bodies.
You pull down the era of
earthen lamps from ruins.
Give me a wrapped
guilt. I am a boat in water
without wooden oars.
Black eyes stitched
to dolls. They were going to
wed the white gods.
A knife's cult invokes
the barren cave. You had planted
the severed heads.
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