Satish Verma, 5 august 2021
There was nothing to hide.
No jewels, no gold. I
wanted, to get the replica of afterlife.
Meet me in some moonless night.
I will show you a slice
of my bruises, offering it as
my panacea.
You were hurting yourself
invoking the baby god
on the night of lights.
It was hallucinating,
stabbing yourself in a
virtual suicide.
As the last rites started,
you got up from the funeral pyre
and walked away.
Satish Verma, 1 august 2021
In my sanctum,
you walk in― like
my first child, to join
my innerness.
Trying to decipher―
the moral code of angels.
I just wanted an embrace
of a flame to kiss the sparks.
I hear your footsteps,
sometimes near, sometimes far away―
in the valley of burning tears.
This space and, a gouge hold the
secret of melting lips.
Still unborn, a voice in
cul-de-sac, waits for the grievers
to open the darkness―
for a ray of light. It was very
lonely where you had scripted the clouds.
Satish Verma, 11 july 2021
The decay has―
killed the dream songs,
of shut mouths.
Trees were rolling
down on beach
when hurricane collapsed.
It was raining,
carbs and limbs, when
clouds gathered.
You love the
potholes, underground
caves, to hide cardinal sins.
Satish Verma, 2 july 2021
Do not count.
Do not return my poems―
written for you,
in memory of hot pink
flamingoes, that had not returned
to their abodes.
Flashbacks. Fear of colors
arises. You shut your eyes.
Idolatry soaring. Night
will ask the stars. Why am I
carrying the burden of a rock
on my shoulders?
Moon laughs.
You stay quiet,
will not commit any kill.
A train whistles by. Evening
plays a thief, stealing your demeanor.
Inside you burn. No smoke was
coming out. No reference―
to smiles and tears.
Satish Verma, 4 may 2021
Cessation had no direct threats.
You had stopped thinking.
A shadowy future starts hating
you and your financial motives.
The September light falls on leaves
ready to go, yellow-brown-red.
You are still warm, still receptive
of the hollyhocks to welcome you.
A guiltless flight with singing birds―
homing to their mating abodes.
You want to arrive
without qualms, without fainting.
Satish Verma, 12 january 2021
What would you give
when I ask for nothing?
A mysterious lineage
of the soul. It has no sequence,
no flesh, no body.
I was heading towards the edge.
Did you know the perfect
no home? It has no crumbling walls,
no hurting windows. The gray roof of sky?
The earth, the damaging
winds. An hour of awareness
in wait. You start
exploring jinxed mind,
hearing voices, but no words.
Satish Verma, 31 august 2020
I had met the flower
after a longtime.
The rose.
And its fragrance
hauls me to childhood
after the big dying.
A tender, scented dream
will touch me,
to become a poet.
Lying on dewed grass
you think, a promiscuous
microbial libido begins.
The explosion will eject
free verses, waiting in silence-
to witness- the April fall.
Satish Verma, 21 june 2020
Unstable like a mercury
drop, when you hold
a pen, hiding your
icy thoughts.
Like an archer, ready
to abandon the bow, without
shooting at the target.
The bull's eye was a
blue rose, sitting in the dark
niche, afraid of light.
In synesthesia, of
nights assault, you fume
and sizzle, when the dew
drops hit you.
You will not give the name
of slayer, who killed you with a smile.
Satish Verma, 15 may 2020
Why the pink words
float in black eyes?
I swear, I will not look
at the moon again.
The city burns in snow.
A jump of small
legs, takes you far
from the roar of falls.
The blackbird was my
mascot, sitting on the white
birch, dreaming blue.
A white sheet covers the
shrieking nails. You
cannot walk barefoot
on smouldering candles.
Why again you are climbing
the volcanos?
Satish Verma, 20 february 2020
Not reaching somewhere,
I was not today,
what I was.
You seek a hand
for a handshake, and I watch
the dirt gathering
on the nails.
Sky does not give you
an award.The soot
collects on the windows.
The blue skulls dance
to defy the earth.No forehead
was formed.How would you
read the destiny?
I swear, I did not fathered
the deity in a-
monotheist gathering.
A black hijab covers
the moon.
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