Satish Verma, 23 august 2021
To become yourself,
declaring war―
for inequality.
Who was supremacist
in the pygmy owls―
nondescript voices?
The termites had
stopped making
anthills as nest.
The tall grass
now hides the migrant
labourers.
Satish Verma, 22 august 2021
It was difficult to
rewrite one's own death―
on parchment paper. The cloudburst,
had washed away your writ.
The cadaver turns around
and talks. Faith and fire going together.
A flickering light from the brown
eyes, would tell about Advaita. The
nonduality of pain and body.
You can become painless―
if you leave the physical and
watch yourself intently.
Captivity crumbles. You want
to make sure, the bread does not
come between desire and grief.
Satish Verma, 21 august 2021
When I wanted
to stop you, the flame was
snuffed out by an invisible hand.
I let the missing link
go. My body turns blue.
You return back the
rusted coins. Fountain was
dry. Someone was going insane.
An albino touch with
blue eyes― the planet quivers
in chill.
A punishment for
remaining brown in the
crowd of white lilies.
Summer is breathing
last. Frozen lips now stop the flight.
Satish Verma, 20 august 2021
Syllepsis. A story goes.
You can kill two―
birds with one eye.
Your charisma does
not work.
Solomon has failed.
Not difficult to live
in a shell, if you
are a white pearl.
In aloneness, you
meet yourself on the
way to morgue.
Satish Verma, 19 august 2021
Why would you need a
miracle to become human, after
shedding the skin?
In smoke screen you
become a lizard, creeping on lips,
hips, and chest of an ignorant person.
Verbs would roll down to
explain the gorgeous valley
of sylvian fissure. You had stopped
thinking after tequila.
The agave blooms once in a century
and dies. The man becomes
beast in one night and lives for ever.
Anguish calls. I don't hear my voice.
Become brain-dead, to meet my―
blue gods―
Satish Verma, 18 august 2021
Blue moon of white night, wants―
to bring down the sky
in a spiritual bliss.
Talking of reincarnation,
I am skinned alive, like
a cadaver, talking ceaselessly.
You are burning sans fire.
In absence of god, you
become a god father
to a beautiful progeny.
Leave aside the lineage.
On the horizion, a flock
of swans was returning
home to spread the watercolors.
The recluse comes out from the oblivion
to greet the inevitable.
Satish Verma, 17 august 2021
Black names―
were on list. Bring the
French chalk to wipe out
the white board.
The list was still breathing
though you had faked your death,
and the birds had left their nests
for new perches.
Does it hurt you, when
you go hungry? Even the grass
was green. The prince
was watching the apple fall.
Who will climb the
brown hills of moon, to
witness the earth drop in
withering trails?
Satish Verma, 16 august 2021
Let's try a
human logic for
a monkey heart.
The knowledge was
becoming a
dangerous thing.
I know and
you know that we
were sworn enemies.
Not like a
flamethrower
come as a bee.
Satish Verma, 15 august 2021
Stealing from your
eyes a visibly
upset moon.
I believe, it was not a
tough stand to shut the door
before wearing the mask.
You will not cry,
for my sake. You don't
want to grow old with the pain.
Who will have the last laugh?
Misogyny. Moon was changing the gender
from the west to the east.
On the lonely road
a peacock spreads the beautiful wings
and starts a dance.
Finding a mate becomes
a catholic thing.
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