Satish Verma, 5 december 2022
One day in a dream,
I will ask the deity of ancient
temple, why did you father―
*
the elephantine
blunder of creating universe
to destroy it again?
*
I was also the builder
of bold world on the paper
for nightingale.
Satish Verma, 3 december 2022
Not accepting death,
eyes search in dark, the meaning
of the salvation from―
*
coming and going.
What were your thoughts when it
rained in lightning?
*
Would you climb again
to prayers that were soundless
and wordless in eyes?
Satish Verma, 2 december 2022
Vision impaired.
The fear crawls in your poems―
for lynx-eyed words.
*
Hounded light wears
a mask to rip off the thespian.
Time was my collateral.
*
Who was the reddest in―
rose, blaze and ruby? Will you
pick the color for me?
Satish Verma, 1 december 2022
How would you talk to―
your unborn child, when lynching
mobs were waiting?
*
The insider was pure.
Still unknown to blood moon.
That was my other flesh.
*
Swallow all the darkness
of crying earth, I impel your
nails to scratch the sun.
Satish Verma, 30 november 2022
Retrieve the ancient
mantra to invoke wandering
spirit of Agni.
*
Let the time burn
in crucible of fair pain to
test nugget's glitter.
*
Still virgin's book was
untouched― unopened
to redeem the words!
Satish Verma, 29 november 2022
If there was nothing
to chance at, we will not quit.
I won't see your hands.
*
Pulverized faith
seeks a new name to survive.
Prophets are dead.
*
Would you bow down
to collect the dust falling from
tresses of goddess?
Satish Verma, 28 november 2022
An ailing sun.
I grieve for a lost song
unheard in rains.
*
The kneaded flesh
of a weeping star pulsates
on the split grains.
*
Let the mother resolve,
who was the immortal son
of the bruised earth.
Satish Verma, 27 november 2022
That appears my last
race, though sun refuses to set.
Ablaze steals the moment.
*
It comes apart;
the surrogacy of imperfect―
seeds of love and hate.
*
Dry leaves of a tree
will not carry the message of
a beautiful lake.
Satish Verma, 25 november 2022
Listen to wind in
dark. I was hurting myself
not to kiss black rose.
*
There was blood under
the eyes for writing unknown
truths about a fall.
*
Time was not for myths.
The traveler resumes journey
to meet failed god!
Satish Verma, 24 november 2022
The glass eye looks
at moon, caves in moonlight,
to hurl the flames.
*
Bright pink will have
collision effect on you
to lose me at dawn.
*
No grass, no palms in
path of self-immolation,
when sun was cooling.
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