Satish Verma, 10 december 2018
You did not want to play―
into the strength,
of the other.
Wrecking the pecking order,
to become poorer,
giving away your entire height?
I could live,
without your blasts, O sun,
but I need my moon,
for whole night.
It pervades,
the dark matter, in every pore.
Like gingko tree
I will drop all the pretentions
tonight, and become leafless.
Satish Verma, 9 december 2018
The one happening;
which never happned.
A slice of mock invasion on
inner sanctum to find your own name.
Who were you?
A mind not on the mend? A
house you were not living in?
The forecast was wary of strangers.
A deadly intent was hurling
the desires onto the stones
of eyes. A fog hides the melt.
You were not ready for syntax,
a rhyme breaks into sobs.
Washed by pain, a sting
becomes the poem.
Satish Verma, 8 december 2018
Impromptu, word by
word, I will anoint you
with poetry.
*
Moon was sinking
slowly, watching me
reciting an elegy.
*
The gates were still
closed, for the candle
bearers to stand vigil.
Satish Verma, 7 december 2018
It is the truth which
never was. After many
deaths I will come to you
to repeal my verses.
The festering earth was
making the rains green,
to suck the dry sands
thrown by the angry winds.
The soul upturns the body.
You will crawl in a tunnel
to come out for sedation
accepting the karma.
A non-acceptance of the
straitjacket. Let the anxiety
rise like a beast.
Satish Verma, 6 december 2018
Defrosting,
the mutability of homicide.
You were lost in dreams
stoking the protests of eyes.
What were the explicit
suggestive remarks?
A personality disorder for going back
to pyramids and searching the priest?
Embrace the death, who
says. The pavallion was empty.
Game was over and boys had
gone to dethrone the kissed thief.
The questions run, trailing
the path. What was the nature
of this thought, I say when
sky was infinite?
Satish Verma, 5 december 2018
When you release the
words, your curled fingers
burst into flame.
It was an ancient filth,
a bird fighting in the mud-
house of quote-unquote.
Someone navigated
over the bald heads to find
a landing place for a cuckoo.
Between real and fiction,
you cannot write a hymn
in praise of satan, called god.
I am done with the darkness
all around, and rip open
the wall to let in the jupiter.
Satish Verma, 4 december 2018
The black holes ringed
the galaxy. Tainted
moon, was in tow.
*
Any generational gap
was evident between
Neanderthals and humans?
*
How our brain works
I wanted to know?
Are there any real men?
Satish Verma, 3 december 2018
The space between the
two ends, was becoming
a game of thorns.
The leprous increase
tips the moon. An unseen
virgin becomes red rose.
It was another day in
the desert. I don't want
to become a prophet.
A titular sun was
collecting the lilies to
divide the night in halves.
Manipulating the nucleus,
are you ready to accept
the uncommitted sin?
Satish Verma, 2 december 2018
When God kings come―
down stealthly,
it is your waking time.
You had never counted the awards.
Refrained from watching the oblation.
When blood pooled on
the floor, you were holding
a love child of moon
and earth.
Do you think a collateral
damage will ensue, when you
chart out the trajectory of missiles?
The incredible ink will not
go dry on the tongue, when you
read a ghazal of indomitable
pen.
Today I climb a red
mountain to know my height.
Satish Verma, 1 december 2018
You cast doubt,
on the definition.
Gods play with words,
like winged fruits,
Man becomes the spawn of destiny.
Sparrows were flying
out. I will watch―
the window closed. A slant of
light withers away.
I am writing my poems in dark.
The vintage rings under
the eyes, will retrieve
the lost meaning of
truth, from the ruins of
time. I will again start my pilgrimage.
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