Satish Verma, 27 august 2020
Something exciting
was to happen.You
call for an assayer.
Morality has failed,
running after the
false values of untruths.
Pure virginity.
I won't touch you again
for the sake of god.
Crossing the threshold
like walking on burning coals
to test the bonding.
The mankind was
always cannibalistic.
You devour the body without blood.
Satish Verma, 26 august 2020
I left a piece of moon on my
table and started writing about
the broken mirror. There was a time
when we used to cry together.
Dusting off the old books, uncared
for months. A rare ritual
defines the motion. It was the
temblor giving me a dustbath.
Do you know who was the leader
of the pack? The greed, the authority?
There was a bright door, between
the umbels. Would you taste the hemlock?
Every thing is in disorder. You
remember how cranky I was when
I found you unframed. Today
I will embrace the empty wall.
Satish Verma, 24 august 2020
Hunting calm, without
a kill, without a
mirage.
A momentary lapse
and you suffer
for centuries.
The pangs of separation
were rising.No birth.
You become a white mausoleum.
And the ancient
bloodshed will take care
of the pearls in your eyes.
Ask the moon
to lift the veil.Bonfires
of sharp pains have begun.
The halo around
your face quivers.I was
not a god.You were not mortal.
Satish Verma, 23 august 2020
Do not sleep, as libido
Moon will visit
the shrine of love today.
It was an end of the-
lone journey. You recover
the path of lost poem.
A river lies buried in
my chest, unawakned.
Would you kiss the stone today?
Satish Verma, 22 august 2020
Trying to quantify the vices
in you, I am becoming
brute.
Going my own way.
I join the migration
of invisibles.
A plucked tiger lily
roars. Amphibians were ready
to invade the mountain.
The curled fingers
had become question marks.
Blindness had become a bliss.
Inlaid in the redwood
lies my blood. I lived under
the branches, naked, carefree.
steve, 20 august 2020
There's a passion that burns, between you and I,
Igniting a spark, that could light up the sky,
So hot is the fire, that burns through the night,
It blurs out the difference, of what's wrong or what's right,
All that I wanted, was for love to take hold...
I could feel the fire that burned,
With white-hot emotion, that was out of control...
and flames that wouldn't be turned,
But how is there love, and a passion so strong,
When two minds can't meet and every things wrong,
With no understanding, and nowhere to turn,
Like throwing gas on a fire, stand back let it burn,
When the backfires are lit, there's no turning back...
as another lesson is learned,
But I knew all along, the danger involved...
play with fire, you always get burned,
I did not want to lose us, but it seems I have...
as the flames have burned us down,
And as I walk through the rubble, of what's left of my life...
not a thing is left to be found.
steve, 20 august 2020
"Why is it".. that you make me feel what I haven't felt in years...
And why every time I see you do my eyes just fill with tears,
Why do I have to touch myself every time you walk away...
As the flames inside consume me all I want is you to stay,
I've tried to reach inside you to somehow touch your heart...
But I'm no closer to you now than I was right from the start,
The fortress you have built is strong with walls too high to climb...
But I'd give my life to breach them all and claim your heart as mine,
"Why is it".. that you look away when I look into your eyes...
I can feel the pain inside of you that you desperately disguise,
What hell have you been living that keeps you far away...
That won't let anyone get near and keeps your heart at bey,
Like breachless walls of titanium, there's nothing you've left bare...
So "why is it" I can't let go, when I know you'll never care...
Satish Verma, 20 august 2020
The mood-lifters
you will need, when
night falls and the poems
start howling.
The crisp massacre
of golden dreams, and you
start disposing off the defunct philosophy.
The myths of heaven
and hell, causing the colossal
anxiety.A dog walks past
a dead body, near the burned temple.
This is the world apart, where
you opened the book for
an eye hole.Then you suck the images.
The pebble in the pond
starts moving.No water was left
to wash the dirty idols.
Satish Verma, 19 august 2020
The caterpillar on the lawn-
in the name of god,
eating away the copper,
the blue veins of thighs.
Barefoot I come to wish
you farewell. You must stand-
in the decaying woods,
to pronounce me dead.
The auburn fawn climbs on
the podium, to mimic a birdsong.
It was sloth time. Moon was
away and it was dark.
The eagle swoops on tiny
breasts, popping up from the
nest of muse. There were no
feathers and no beak left.
Satish Verma, 18 august 2020
Deck is empty, today: -
physics of life unfolds.
I know you less now, what
I knew you earlier.
A cloud city after the collision
had become distraught, after taking
a dip in mudslide.
With chainsaw I am cutting
myself. Why not to become a fossil
with imprints of the collapse―
of our culture and education, in
coal pits of ancient times?
The body has hardened, bones
twisted in agony, I grab the window,
to pull in the sun. Only
the eyes will shine in dark.
Poetry
Prose
Photography
Graphics
Video poems
Postcards
Diary
Books
Handmade
