Satish Verma, 26 december 2023
Strawberry moon
descends. Words wait for
your hubris. The lake
Never arrives,
doubting the color of
rising sun. I get
My gift of sacred
punishment to solve the
love's chemistry.
Satish Verma, 23 december 2023
Give me pain of
your pain in summer moon,
not to miss the blues
Of valleys.
God to God a scream devastates
some anagrams.
Tonight I will sit
under stars to cool
the sadness of tears.
Satish Verma, 22 december 2023
Give me pain of
your pain in summer moon,
not to miss the blues
Of valleys.
God to God a scream devastates
some anagrams.
Tonight I will sit
under stars to cool
the sadness of tears.
Satish Verma, 21 december 2023
I ask you, to be my
rage. Unwavering in
the timelessness.
No more I was
protagonist. New moon
will sit on my eyes.
Bare foot I walk
towards the burning pyre, to
see the ascent of ashes.
Satish Verma, 20 december 2023
It comes nearer
and nearer every night,
the face, like fog.
A cult of moon
spills the milk on the pink lips.
Salt and the honey.
Before fated
kiss of death, you pluck,
roses from eyes.
Satish Verma, 19 december 2023
Body was culture
at blue heights. Frozen
till my candle lights.
I fumble in dark
to remain human. No one
would be godfather.
Give back my pain.
Unwrap my bones. The blood
should be drying up.
Satish Verma, 17 december 2023
Today the sun
will rise without you in pain of
two stars kissing.
A brief pause
between the hiccups. Poem
was incomplete.
How would I say
you goodbye facing the dark
burningmoon?
Satish Verma, 16 december 2023
You should not
have done this? Trespassing
the virginity of the
olive branch and the ashes.
I will borrow the
words to clean blood
in your eyes. A lovely
jasmine will sit on your lips.
The death holds its
own mercy between good
and bad. Any fondling
of moon was a bliss.
Where will dysplasia
go, after giving an unbearable
loss? You cannot roll the
carpet after the blaze.
The tangerines will give
a big surprise.
Satish Verma, 15 december 2023
To become insane,
I think. I miss the ruptured
wounds.
I ask myself,
was it true, you
were painting water body?
Somebody was
laughing after the funeral
of raped truth.
The bells go
without sound. I hold
my trembling hands.
The door knob was
broken. I cannot open the
portal of dreams.
A lone swan treads
softly on the smashed mirror
to reach the lake.
Satish Verma, 14 december 2023
Living without you
was like a kite, flying
alone in blue sky.
Like a downy mildew
climbs the damp poems.
Letters tremble.
Wearing all red, frills
a setting sun, was
smiling in deep sleep,
tears swiping the dry lips.
Maybe, you wanted
to set me free from
tarantula's web.
Going there
where moon weeps.
I will search the rock.
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