Satish Verma, 1 march 2023
The fire thoughts rise,
when the stinging stubble burns
on your green face.
It doesn't smell, the
forked tongue. Taste was
sweet on the skin.
A crimson twilight
narrates the glory of sun,
inviting the moon.
Satish Verma, 27 february 2023
Would you remove
your mask once, and come to
me as you are?
Don't throw the pebbles
to skin my pain. The wound bleeds,
to quote the past.
I ask myself to
be quiet in this moon time.
Saint was turning red.
Satish Verma, 26 february 2023
When Rilke stops
whispering, I search
the cut flowers of gladioluses.
You don't speak
at all, blinking your eyes
anxiously. There was no
spate of quivering lips.
The exodus of long
breaths had the lethality.
Words come and go like,
a bunch of bees.
My problem was,
how to meet my beautiful
end.
The culture, the
wisdom would wait for
the angels.
Satish Verma, 25 february 2023
Something was left behind.
I was collecting all the
dried roses for the prison of
eyes. I ask myself― what was that.
Something was left behind.
A black rose? Near the
smoked candles of poems? A
tiger lily, still had the blood spots?
Why do I forget the precious things?
Something was left behind.
I wait for the butterfly,
to wake, which had breathed
last between the tender
moments. Why do I want?
Something was to be left behind!
Satish Verma, 24 february 2023
Space versus time.
You blend in my singularily
I will meet my other self
in the black hole.
Counting my heartbeats
I will cleave to you, but I find
that only my shadow―
walks with me.
With minimal touch of
love. I discover the asset of
stupidity. Like feeble thoughts would
swap for stinging tentacles.
A bizarre equation appears.
The fearsome becomes a jelly
fish. I am trying to give
a name to quarks.
Satish Verma, 22 february 2023
Don't read;
feel the words. They weep
in full moon.
The hills were
moving. Trees wouldn't
wear the dresses.
I was not ready
for autumn. Can you come
back after the death
of hope?
The stalkers
stand in queue
to harness the dark energy.
The frills were
beautiful. Face was missing.
Satish Verma, 21 february 2023
Dying inch by inch
to catch you between the poems
before night ends.
Life changes words
without sounds and vowels.
You will not find truth.
Create a wound
for me to print image
of fall from honeycomb.
Satish Verma, 20 february 2023
Your memory returns
to listen to waterfall
and watch sunset.
Body speaks to soul,
interpreting eternity.
Something doesn't die.
Whom to call in dark
when you blow-off the lantern?
Hail the arrow man?
Satish Verma, 18 february 2023
Reaching the end of
life, are you ready to listen
when I don't speak?
The charisma of
gods was wavering, you will
smear the poles red.
Step by step moon
climbs down, the blue lake, for
last rites of blaze.
Satish Verma, 17 february 2023
Ready to barter my
last wish with your tulips
glowing in eyes.
I didn't ask for
any help to decipher my
blue dream of edge.
Two little words may
be sufficient to
resuscitate charm.
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