Satish Verma, 31 december 2023
When you plan to quit,
the ghost limb will slash the wrist
to swallow pride.
I do not want to
call you my yesterday. Past
takes revenge.
Nemesis comes
to play its role. Divine
punishment for me.
Satish Verma, 30 december 2023
Your absence
creates an aura. The
concealed hurt.
Today when the sun
of longest day goes down,
the night will wait.
To buckle under
the titanic grief of
sea, not sinking me.
Satish Verma, 29 december 2023
Longing to sit on
your pink lips, a butterfly
wants to say goodbye.
Bloodletting was
a big mistake. Only
white shroud imprints.
You had passed
through my body leaving
footmarks in eyes.
Satish Verma, 28 december 2023
You wished a
talented end. When you
denied me, where
Was the wrong moon?
Like nightbird you birthed
an astral poem.
Plunged in bone―
deep, an arrow ejects a
rose from belly button.
Satish Verma, 27 december 2023
I am not a paragon.
Everyday I will repeat
some hymns to myself.
Sometimes the
truth becomes transgender.
From god to goddess.
Grace and courtesy.
The moon anchors a smile.
Tears roll silently.
Satish Verma, 26 december 2023
Strawberry moon
descends. Words wait for
your hubris. The lake
Never arrives,
doubting the color of
rising sun. I get
My gift of sacred
punishment to solve the
love's chemistry.
Satish Verma, 23 december 2023
Give me pain of
your pain in summer moon,
not to miss the blues
Of valleys.
God to God a scream devastates
some anagrams.
Tonight I will sit
under stars to cool
the sadness of tears.
Satish Verma, 22 december 2023
Give me pain of
your pain in summer moon,
not to miss the blues
Of valleys.
God to God a scream devastates
some anagrams.
Tonight I will sit
under stars to cool
the sadness of tears.
Satish Verma, 21 december 2023
I ask you, to be my
rage. Unwavering in
the timelessness.
No more I was
protagonist. New moon
will sit on my eyes.
Bare foot I walk
towards the burning pyre, to
see the ascent of ashes.
Satish Verma, 20 december 2023
It comes nearer
and nearer every night,
the face, like fog.
A cult of moon
spills the milk on the pink lips.
Salt and the honey.
Before fated
kiss of death, you pluck,
roses from eyes.
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