Satish Verma, 22 april 2023
In lost island,
water and boat, I
will never know you.
A volley of stings.
I bleed inside, without
single drop falling out.
There will be no
tiara, to put on the head
of pain.
Play on flute,
before the sunset. I
want to invite fireflies.
The numbers don't
agree. War continues for
the red sea of tears.
You won't reach
your abode alive.
Satish Verma, 21 april 2023
Was there a purpose
to wear mascara
and nestle in giant
clouds?
You scare me
holding the candle
burning at both ends.
What was the
confusion before jumping
from the bridge?
O moon, I always
loved the honey color
of your skin, before
collecting ashes.
Who had created this maze,
I will never know.
Satish Verma, 20 april 2023
The fear right
below your skin, festers.
I listen to hissing sound of
simmering muse.
Space between the
words suffers. There was
no meaning left by
unspoken ties.
The castle of dreams crumbles, brick
by brick, in the hands
of sleeping volcanoes.
You need a
snake charmer to sway
the beauty of crooked
smile of time.
I still watch the trap.
Satish Verma, 19 april 2023
Charging at the
huddled moon, palm
leaves release the
elixir.
I watch a beautiful
death dance, pouting
her lips,
very quiet.
Oh, precious pain,
come again. The
rock wants to
commit suicide.
My entreaty
will not reach the
heavenly bird, I want
to walk on holy sin.
Satish Verma, 18 april 2023
After you gave me a
split rupture,
there was a mirror pain.
The bruises get away
without mercy. A hand will
write reversely a poem.
You cannot erase
the stink, which comes from
the mouthless words.
And the triangle
will eat the floating bodies
of bloated dreams.
Who always chased
me with subtlety, when
hills were crumbling.
Moon becomes lunatic.
Satish Verma, 17 april 2023
You let go, of me
to wear the hawthorn's
crown, to probe, what I
wouldn't know.
In the ending was
beginning of a fragile
kiss of waning moon, before
the daffodils fall on ground.
I try to forget
the number of steps you
have not taken towards
the moment of enormity.
The laced wounds
prepare to make water
thin for the sleetof
salt water in red eyes.
Satish Verma, 16 april 2023
In soundless
landscape, I will meet the
ultimate, waking pain
of understanding.
Back and forth
pillars of strength would fall.
Nothing else will shock me.
Measureless I become.
Do you see a halo
around the moon? She was
the goddess of a
lost songbird.
I want to stop
thinking. I owe you the
holy truth. Life was
no more grainy.
Satish Verma, 15 april 2023
When I ask for
the innovation, you
lob the moon.
Glass and sand
in your eyes, melt into
kisses. There was no
other way.
You cannibalize my
poems, make a statuette
and wear the pendant.
You stone a wall
of paper. Why did it
carry the names of
failed gods?
You watch the stream
of tears feeding the red
poppies about to be
slaughtered.
Satish Verma, 13 april 2023
What you will not
say, after becoming cosy
with the moon in sleep walk?
Holding my hand,
you wanted to squeeze
time for the sake of fallen
star in the black sea
of ifs and buts.
The tears were
great solvent, when you
inhaled the fumes of
karma, to go high.
The seizure will
come again, wrapped in
golden shroud, against the
hope of suicide.
Meditation brings
sweet music.
Satish Verma, 12 april 2023
Black tree
feeds the blood root.
There will be no sonic
connectivity.
How could I love
you so, at moonrise?
Shall I say the watercolor
has been washed?
It was not the culture
and style of time. The
renaissance wants to extract
the rare price.
Crisp nouns would
take revenge on the
unuttered words. The sacred
ism was no more valid.
Let the clouds cover
the bleeding sky.
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