Satish Verma, 18 maja 2024
Grey air. I will come to myself, igniting
the fire. When will be ground reality known?
Standing on the cusp of pain.
It was not a legitimised, valorused decision.
When you will leave the things as
they are. I tossed the new born thoughts.
Great walls were crumbling
unfolding the ugly ephemeral cults.
Who gnaws my poems? Don't search
my unuttered words for your maturation.
Satish Verma, 17 maja 2024
You were my mistake, O god
The road doesn't open now.
My hands cannot reach
to catch the salvo of anonymity
The pain differs from the flesh
Untouched, unbroken and stubborn.
You smell like jasmine.
The blood enfolds the injuries.
An ambush takes a violent turn.
You know who commands the wishes.
Satish Verma, 16 maja 2024
What did you hurl?
Tell me all the lies. Pain―
and truth stand on stage.
Predawn jasmines,
open their eyes to
salute the sun.
A ligature bruise
on the body of moon speaks
of brutal assault.
Satish Verma, 15 maja 2024
What blurs from tear
to tear, bone to bone? What was the
real ? Peace will never come.
If you are virtual, I
will become a truth. The horizon
plants the moons one by one.
We are crazy. Running
again after the triangle, clefted by
the voices of sharp knives.
Satish Verma, 14 maja 2024
You have to die
to live again for bloodline.
See how the wind blows.
The black roses go
in flames. I change myself
to understand you.
There was no niche
in your wall to place my
deity to mirror me.
Satish Verma, 13 maja 2024
A cat crosses a bridge
alone. Moon looks down to find
the river. Ducks were holding the boat.
Who wants to return to
equity or brutality? Fear and
uncertainty cast the future.
Sand waves bring reprisal.
Divides the hearts. Your paradigm invites
perjury. I am going to ignite the flames.
Satish Verma, 11 maja 2024
I feel the deja vu.
The mysterious cascades
give the amnesty to thorns
Were you ready to ambush the
bete-noire? We don’t know how to
celebrate the colossus Himalaya .
The god doesn't want
to inhale the ether and kill the
bushmaster. Venom turns milk.
Satish Verma, 10 maja 2024
You will say what you
did not want to say, about
golden ring of coins.
Glittering colors
hurt the blue eyes in sun.
Pain of earth cries.
Will you sing an
anthem for the departing
soul of unmasked angel?
Satish Verma, 8 maja 2024
Hiding your thoughts
you communicate. Lips don't
move. Silence speaks.
Unhinged, wither
autocracy. Why you were
unbreakable?
The panic of the
neutral sex, delivers the
body of message.
Satish Verma, 6 maja 2024
Your layers are
thick. You will invite the
stains of fallen stars.
Why you want to sell
a fake idea, wrapped
in tears of sunken eyes?
A moon wants to cry
at harvest time Come September,
we collect the bowls.
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