Satish Verma, 19 may 2020
To drink the sea,
spilled over
from your eyes was not an easy task.
It was getting
dark, outside.
Inside an eternal flame
of separation
was flickering.
About the consent
of owning
privacy of truth,
I withdraw
my comments.
Now no shroud was needed
to cover the naked body.
Satish Verma, 19 february 2020
I
The blend of gene and name.
How you carry the
legacy?
II
We are losing the war.
You are winning
the birds.
III
The sparrows have left
the nest of man,
in search of moving homes.
IV
How do you spell the ruins?
I have never seen
a perfect shape.
V
Chicken-livered.
Why did you try to
confront the wall?
Satish Verma, 31 january 2020
I am not going to touch
the meaning―
of nativity for unknown
guests.
A cameo appearance of some
god, does not take away the
most recent fears
of death.
The ghosts have their own
defences against scars,
bruises and unstitched
bones.
Give me a piece of unleashed
poem, my odyssey
has begun in
earnest.
Satish Verma, 29 january 2020
A wine taster was
ready to begin the birth
of night.
A wrinkle displays
the absurd mediocrity
of the charter.
I will not play
in the hands of unknowable
I have my own map.
I am shedding,
my skin, my color. Only
a truncated god will speak for me.
Satish Verma, 8 january 2020
Blunt and bold were
the wet spots.
You bleed like me.
The seizure takes hold
of millions thoughts.
My sins are walking with me.
No annihilation of
the flesh. I was meeting
the spirits.
The face becomes pure
gold, when you
start burning the issues.
The years had survived
in slumber.
Death will not come to the hanged man.
Satish Verma, 6 january 2020
Tonight the moon will sit
on the gazobe,
to have a look at the sea, rising.
*
On the night's shade
dewdrops will wait, till
morning glory blooms.
*
It was a long night.
My lamp starts to flicker.
I hurry up to finish my poem.
Satish Verma, 25 november 2018
Like sly coyotes
you move around
the fireballs. You switch off
the earthly lights. They are
now oranges. Presently
a broker will sell the wounds
of the moon.
Why did you feel sad of something
which was unsaid? A thousand
and one words will speak
when the poem would be brought
dead. You are not here
not in the nakedness of lies, when
something glitters which was not yellow.
The twilight now settles
in your eyes. Moon refuses to
plunge into darkness.
Satish Verma, 4 april 2018
The intrigues, the twists
unravel the woven threads
of the mystery. Traumatized
and dazed, I play─
dice with the unknown to
find out the truth.
Confronting the purpose
of existence,
you come out of the flesh
after flogging─
and start dancing
with bones.
Extremely poor,
you play the hand
and fail.
Elsewhere someone
climbs on the pole
and sets the house on fire.
Satish Verma, 28 february 2018
You had placed floating
garden on the crest
of five-headed white cobra.
The hooded death,
strikes; when you were
tending to bonsai.
Over to moon,
you send the message. But
The book was incomplete.
On the way to
tiny thoughts, an odyssean
task to put the right words.
I will go and
stand on the edge, to
watch the glorious senset.
Satish Verma, 17 february 2018
Strange. You want to protect
the house after the attack.
Debunking the grammar. Take
a look at the cavernous eyes.
Do you find any rains?
Refresh drops. You will
need them, once a while.
The life. Hides many grudges.
It was scorching. A country
of cantos in politics. The-
language keeps on changing.
What was next, nobody knows.
The trees were there, the birds
there, but there were no leaves.
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