Renato N. Mascardo, 15 september 2020
belle de jour
the blue
sky touches the
water that covers and
uncovers the sand because of
the wind
it is
a beautiful
day to fly a kite a
glorious morn to build castles in
the sand
the sheer
joy of being
on the beach in childhood
on this perfect day makes the day
endless//
renato
sunday 13 september 2020
Satish Verma, 15 september 2020
Eons ago, it snapped.
You don't fit into the mold.
Like onion peels, I am trying
to open myself
holding the secrets.
Flawless,
you alway had to invoke
the inner god and-
forgive yourself.
With the same
left foot, always leading you
to truth. That was not now.
Your belief was going up in flames.
Who was sleeping
in your bed, nude, like the
moonbeam, when I was not there
to undemand, the eternal sleep?
Satish Verma, 14 september 2020
One small step, in dark.
A silver of fear
slaps you.
You move around
to confront the past.
It was the partition of night.
Cobra white, when
eyes would not listen.
You drugged the stone
on stone,
hiss on hiss,
hair on hair.
I did not touch you
like burning coal.
My waterfalls
on red salt, bring the
largest tears of moon glittering
eerie wet.
Satish Verma, 13 september 2020
Don't spell the deportation.
Mind seems split-
with a maddening feel.
Do you see what I see-
the invisible lines on
my hand, piercing your heart?
Do you hear, what I
hear- the Hum, which has
made you go crazy?
Dying to unspeak, you
hide between the leaves.The
borrowers come like Crab fish,
ugly and demanding.River
bed was drying up.
Black sticks, things not
required- get piling up.In
wheelchair, you push
a crying doll.
Satish Verma, 12 september 2020
The causal effect
was the kiss of the blind spot.
I wake up every morning
smelling blood.
The space animates you,
leaving the truth outside.
An unwritten message was lost
in the watering eyes.
The aquaduct dries up. You
get the cramps of city,
after the memes of swollen eyes.
Do not open the umbrella,
sun was hiding.
Your brain becomes wired.
Someone slaps a sticker on your lips.
You cannot cry. A muffled scream,
shatters the windows of the capitol.
Satish Verma, 11 september 2020
You call an all night truce
of all stripes in moonlight.
Only milk will flow in dark.
*
The violets had a secret to tell.
Tonight the moon will
appear red after meditation.
*
A single parent, gay, has
come to stay in line
to accept his godless defeat.
Satish Verma, 9 september 2020
Purity of thoughts,
must limit the knowledge-
collective withdrawal from
the valley of words.
Each life you had changed
the bed, to meet the god, in different attires.
Hanged from the roof
to understand the pangs of poverty.
The unborn century will wait
for the collapse of identity.
Man has gone too far carrying
the burden of acoustics.
Satish Verma, 8 september 2020
It was revenge on you
by unknown.
You were sentenced to live before
the ashes arrive from thumb to thumb.
The onset of grief
was caliberated. I would
not live with a mad weaver
who will not heal the moral bleeds.
A line delimits the dots.
The dance will not begin tonight,
of democracy. The sparrows
were frightened. There was blood on the road.
You want to go into a long sleep.
The moon had an excuse to rise late.
The seeds will observe the silence,
before they come out of the asphalt.
Satish Verma, 7 september 2020
Like wounded tiger,
going for last innings.
Like Orpheus listening
to water, without looking back.
Will not entrance you
any more, under the moonscape,
getting light from
the nightingale.
Finding the passage of
sunrise, I will wait for you
to come last time-
for a goodbye.
Trembling like aspen
leaf, to steal your aura
in moonless night, when Milky Way
will spread the diamonds.
Satish Verma, 6 september 2020
The spirit was not there
under the skin-
in grey domain.
I will not seek any revenge on self.
The defeat was my solo passage.
I am still searching
myself in the crowd.
More than enough, I had my share of hurts.
Talking of the innocence
of a womb, when you were not
born. The steel in your hair
and empathy in your tongue.
A wandering sage will
not love the fall of night.
You see better in twilight. The
shadows give an illusion of angels.
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