poetry

poetry
Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 16 october 2018

Time Crossing

When I hold the pen, 
it trembles in my hand; the poem. 
 
The catharsis. 
Zero minus, to no to everything 
against the main stream. 
You start kinking. 
 
Gawking? 
Every night I carry my glitches 
to bed, to fight my demons. 
Falteringly, you speak: 
it should not have happened. 
The genetic aberration? 
 
Nudges the crass exhibition 
of alphabets of exorcism. 
You invoke the dumb gods, who will 
not vacate the accelerandos.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 15 october 2018

Solemnity

Give me a lone word. 
I will write a poem. 
 
You enter the final hour 
of diagnosis. The kill 
was imminent. 
 
Back to back two trysts collide 
generating a fire. 
 
Who was peeling the moon? 
 
The stab sets in. In 
abeyance of the gift. I 
will give you a scar. 
 
Daisies will remain awake 
at night, for the vigil 
of a slain pilgrim.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 13 october 2018

A Scare Comes Back

I have never been the same, 
after watching, the abandoned 
 
moon, rising gracefully, 
and becoming secular. There 
 
were no words, no speech; 
but a biological war had 
 
started between the shadows, 
like gondolas in the air. 
 
You unexpectedly turn blue. 
Somebody had left the bloody footprints.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 12 october 2018

Fake Arrival

Gliding on the clover 
you invoke the sky. 
 
A tiger moth lands on the― 
sweet viola to seek liberation. 
 
You die to find a rival― 
to cheat the moon. 
 
Everynight a silver bleeds 
to write your name on the stone. 
 
What you dream, does not 
become your neighbour. 
 
You give a big hearty 
laugh to frighten yourself.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 11 october 2018

Fake Arrival

Gliding on the clover 
you invoke the sky. 
 
A tiger moth lands on the― 
sweet viola to seek liberation. 
 
You die to find a rival― 
to cheat the moon. 
 
Everynight a silver bleeds 
to write your name on the stone. 
 
What you dream, does not 
become your neighbour. 
 
You give a big hearty 
laugh to frighten yourself.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 10 october 2018

Thousand Moons

On the rim of a beer glass, 
stand, white crystals of salt. 
I was watching a pale moon. 
 

 
The lone tree always 
waits for the dipping moon, 
to give a parting kiss. 
 

 
I grieve for the viola. 
Why does it extend one― 
petal for a landing pad.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 9 october 2018

Last Hope

When the dialogue stops 
there will be a royal bleed. 
 
I had not come to the 
terms of slaughter. 
 
Wanted now, to manage 
the anguish incontinent. 
 
Can you find some space in 
waiting, for the hangman? 
 
Footprints and invisible faces. 
Somewhere a hope lives in amber. 
 
Trapped light, in wintery dark, 
will stop a seed to play the nocturne.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 8 october 2018

Scrutinizing

This jungle of words. 
Fear, like a badger 
comes, and sits at my door. 
 

The insects, I 
am tired of them. All the 
time I sit under a bo tree. 
 

This city was 
like an ocean, full 
of predator sharks.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 7 october 2018

The Futurist

Unpunctuating, 
fear will slice the time, 
and you will be a sitting duck 
in the hands of brutal clock. 
 
Drink, Apollo, 
with round eyes and 
limbless torso. He walks on 
the curves, reciting mantras. 
 
There was intrigue and blackmail 
in return for not telling 
the indiscretion of celibates. 
 
A damp squib. There was lot 
of hissing sound, but no 
explosion. Procreatiom will 
stop without fire. 
 
Wants to return to pines. 
The cones, the pricks and 
swaying hips of splendid suggestion.


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 6 october 2018

Marigolds

Wanting to know about 
the violence in cuckoo's nest? 
Heard the first call to court a mate. 

You are not lonely 
today. Moonlight will be 
there at night. 
 

The dark melts to 
spring a surprise. 
Suddenly there are colors around.


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