Satish Verma, 10 november 2017
It was
a stunning defection
in dark.
+
You felt
halved
in dark glory.
*
Angry,
Hurt.
Reciting the hymn.
*
Legless larvae
do not want
to become flies.
Satish Verma, 10 november 2017
It was
a stunning defection
in dark.
+
You felt
halved
in dark glory.
*
Angry,
Hurt.
Reciting the hymn.
*
Legless larvae
do not want
to become flies.
Satish Verma, 9 november 2017
It was
a stunning defection
in dark.
+
You felt
halved
in dark glory.
*
Angry,
Hurt.
Reciting the hymn.
*
Legless larvae
do not want
to become flies.
Satish Verma, 8 november 2017
Becoming polar.
The climax comes
without end.
The physical
intimacy of headliners?
You were not reaching anywhere.
Pretty large
was the near-view.
Eons ago there was a neoclassicism.
The core intensity
was golden.
But circumference was ambulatory.
Planets will watch
the rover
for the final descent of god!
Satish Verma, 7 november 2017
I will accept
the curse
of acquisition.
You wear an epic
on the fingers.
I read a virgin.
My shadow joins
the moon at night.
How tall were you?
Hold my arm
once. In terror
I had kisses an old flame.
Death will be
my only landmark.
My journey ends in your arms.
Satish Verma, 2 november 2017
Go forth alone, as a beast,
as a bird, as a fish.
There were knots in the breast
to be dissolved.
Unfrequented, lust brings
a folded rose. A foeless
territory to explore the -
heaven of fingers.
Beautiful. I like you
Your smile enters the knife.
The knife goes into the heart.
The heart finds an angel.
Pomegranates. Dark red.
Oozing on the edges for
accepting the brunt of
a corrosive reversal.
Satish Verma, 1 november 2017
You done me
mosaic.
The rover has landed
on Mars.
Will you come
tonight?
Circa.
I was searching
the white ants
on the blackboard.
They had drawn
a map
of the moon.
I would not
cry,
for the fallen tree.
It had left
the legacy
of ropes.
Satish Verma, 31 october 2017
How timeless
You were,
O, violence;
After summary executions.
A climactric battle
Rages on, with self.
Inside you, seeking devastatingly-
The brown earth.
After the black night,
I will wait for a bright
Sun. it is there, feel
Of sharp landing, through the eye of a needle.
Freedom from the legacy
Of legends. Where you were,
There was no traffic
Of crawling truths.
Satish Verma, 30 october 2017
Seven minutes of terror,
and fourth generation of missiles.
Can they go together?
And road stops here?
An honour killing will
ensue? Do you think so?
Ethnic hate runs deep in
seeking revenge by remote sensing.
I miss my ego. The poet’s
pride; oscillating between
water and beach. There was no
boat in sight.
Sitting on a rock. I visualize
the firebrand west. Moon was rising.
There was no rhyming in verse or
cascading fall. Any one can climb-
the tree and start throwing down
the ripe mangoes. Was it a harvesting
time of severing the cords.
Satish Verma, 29 october 2017
The invisible
throws a visible image
without a tether.
Do you see the god?
Was a matter of faith?
You tie a thread on the wall. Longing
finally reaches climax. Gravity
defies a flying dream.
You had erred, yet
failed to accept the guilt.
A scariest moment was,
when you entered the morph.
It was a U-turn. Robots
will dictate the polity. You
alight on a rostrum; like
a lovely pink swallow.
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