Satish Verma, 4 may 2019
Nurturing,
a leaker on the prowl,
to become glamorous
killer.
The parting,
of ways in a jungle of
principles, life takes
a full turn,
sharply. The ascension
of dark matter,
believes: it’s time has come
to engulf the world.
Realization,
comes very late in acute
labour pains, throwing
up the agenda.
Taking a call
of inevitable, the
dignity holds on to
the fringes of peace.
Satish Verma, 3 may 2019
Some things are not said,
uncoupling the cut glass.
Flowers will not come
from the new moon.
You collect the hundred
loops from your hair,
and part the heat. An
ancestor turns in his grave.
Collect the grapes, fallen
plums from my garden.
I am not sure, how long the
spring stays. You were
not ready for the
rocks, for sure.
I am scraping the song
written for a tree.
Cannot decipher the sap.
Satish Verma, 2 may 2019
A double helix
uncoils. There was a
beheading in Saudi.
You ask for the
ecstasy in spaceship
singing the oddity.
It was in the proximity
of a brick kiln, that you
wanted to take a sunbath.
It was not private, not
intimate. You had spread
the profanities in bazaar.
How many shots, would
you collect from the,
sinned city of big names?
Satish Verma, 1 may 2019
Abetting the suicide of
a bystander, your impacted
diamond, downs the hips.
What had you done to
me? I will not hold you responsible
for the ache.
There was the aging moon,
still lingering in the―
crack of dawn.
I don’t close the door.
Will wait for the big question
from the exotic death―
of dark matter, which
defied the relationship
of unique absurdities.
Satish Verma, 30 april 2019
To repel the slice of
hope, the patriarch
falls midway.
Pushed to the end of
leaf, a moth is propelled
in the mouth of deeps.
The boat starts sinking
in the age of doubts
and dementia. You
will need to manage
your fires. A hollow
rustling of slogans will,
not repeal the canorous
sounds coming from the
orgy. Life takes a turn.
It asks for an insane man
to change the world.
Satish Verma, 29 april 2019
This was an interesting dialogue
going on,
between me and a ghost. It was
telling me that I love you
because you are not a virgin.
Was it a good thing, someone
asks? The game was fair
but the players were dishonest.
The bared chest, with scars
and raw wounds, tells everything
about blue wars.
The words float on water,
like dragonflies. Do you think
it was impossible to convey
the agony by phraseology of metaphors?
Satish Verma, 28 april 2019
Releasing the pain.
Your eyes laugh,
when you cry.
*
An ancient city
wakes up. A bird, a lizard
and a beast.
*
A triangular hollow
of the valley
throws up the moon.
Satish Verma, 27 april 2019
No questions were taken
from unforgiving sword.
And the dead horse.
A river runs through your body
defining the wet castles.
You look into the eyes of the invader.
The palace intrigues dig in.
You cannot meet the princess.
The inevitability of war looms large.
You will finally know that every
body is mortal. The remains
are meant for the inconceivable.
The scripture versus a blank
page are on the collision course.
Satish Verma, 26 april 2019
Talking of prudery,
you acquiesce in,
and let it go.
The eyes lit up
refraining from comment.
A fish jumps out of water,
and becomes mermaid.
How can you eat the raw moon?
The pubescence on the
young leaves was not
ready. Will you restrain
your hubris and foot soldiers?
The imminent descent
was evident. The fire breaks.
I am afraid, it will consume you all.
Satish Verma, 25 april 2019
My ultimate reply was
my silence. There was―
no need to ward off any
further questions.
It was time to take
a call of the ominous. Clouds
are dark and menacing. You
wanted the poverty of words to go.
But it enters again by back door,
standing along with you. The
great divide begins. The day
was on edge over sick patriarchy.
You will not get the fruits
nor seeds. Yet the cacti do not
need any propagation. Full
of spines, they are hardy.
A fake formula is being put
forward. Let there be a
collective suicide to save
the floundering world.
But I would not agree.
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