Satish Verma, 7 may 2018
A kingfisher
would like to have no borders,
no moongates.
*
Sleep not, when
the moon rises. I will call
the moonflower.
*
The dusk
has a short vision of
a crescent moon.
Satish Verma, 5 may 2018
Stakeholders,
are coming.
There was conflict between
logos and mythos.
One black thorn
was in the flesh.
You come out of the body
to find the window.
One long eel─
surreptitiously enters,
in the guts─
to pluck your eyes out.
But you were
already dead─
after the search of slant light
coming from the liberation.
Crossing the
time zone,
you enter the black hole
traveling at zero hour.
Satish Verma, 4 may 2018
Nevermore you will talk
of the forked tongue.
The genie was out─
in the jungle of legs.
Hunger was in plain sight.
You were wary of the wild─
dogs hounding at your gate.
An augury of some spilled blood?
Lachrymal, the soot trickles
down from the black eyes on─
the marbled breast of a lone
survivor in the city of tombs.
Exhume you must the naked
truth? I will not ask the name
of the ravisher, in this crowd
of fast disappearing shoes.
Satish Verma, 3 may 2018
Aggravated
injury, after a man tries
to fall for goldilocks.
*
The yellow
metal, had lost the shine,
in full moon of November.
*
Suddenly
the life opens the door
to an autumn sunrise.
Satish Verma, 2 may 2018
Standing knee deep in water
invoking the sun god
going upward phenomenally.
I was learning to forget
the edicts of a fake lord.
Would not recognize─
the dirty tricks of a godman
in the garb of a hermaphrodite.
One day he was...
One day he was not. The wild
czar was pounding his chest.
A snow-capped moon was─
going down unseen in the
blue lake of words. There
was three dimensional appearance
but no deliverance for
the poor speech in distress.
Satish Verma, 1 may 2018
The smiling god,
sitting on the throne
wants the invisible sacrifice.
The sounds of executions
which should not have happened,
to please the sovereignty.
The night vision was perfect.
You can see the roof caved in.
An old man was collecting the spent shells.
The anguish was writ large
on the walls of kitchen.
Smoke still rising from an oven.
What are you going to do today?
Stargazing? Going after the lust?
Or feeding the pigeons?
Satish Verma, 30 april 2018
One hazel moon
of November. I was thinking
of an iceberg.
*
The seared
shoots of grass. The path
covered by autumn leaves.
*
A weeping willow
lays down the branches
to embrace the river.
Satish Verma, 29 april 2018
Not able to sing─
you have become the song.
You will make me very poor
by giving charity.
It was a black dahlia, ready
to beset the moon in lunar eclipse.
And the word implant was not
appropriate. It has become toxic.
Downward you search the seeds
in dark. The spirits waiting in wings.
Death was the most beautiful thing
to happen on the stage before-
the play starts. I will invite
my paramour to light the lamp.
Satish Verma, 27 april 2018
Mob tries to set
ablaze a Taj Mahal
I was flying a kite.
*
Tears swell in
the eyes of moon. Paper
lamp has come for a sail.
*
The long night─
I was ready to handover my
family silver to moon.
Satish Verma, 26 april 2018
The trust was intact
but you would not carry
it far, the stillness.
Propolis, that is
what you needed to plug
the echo of insult.
The polarized crowd
was throwing the rocks
at the moon.
May not fracture
the curve, you wanted
the release from unknown.
Where were you, when
the flame was extinguished?
How will I read the writing on wall.
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