Satish Verma, 15 kwietnia 2023
When I ask for
the innovation, you
lob the moon.
Glass and sand
in your eyes, melt into
kisses. There was no
other way.
You cannibalize my
poems, make a statuette
and wear the pendant.
You stone a wall
of paper. Why did it
carry the names of
failed gods?
You watch the stream
of tears feeding the red
poppies about to be
slaughtered.
Satish Verma, 13 kwietnia 2023
What you will not
say, after becoming cosy
with the moon in sleep walk?
Holding my hand,
you wanted to squeeze
time for the sake of fallen
star in the black sea
of ifs and buts.
The tears were
great solvent, when you
inhaled the fumes of
karma, to go high.
The seizure will
come again, wrapped in
golden shroud, against the
hope of suicide.
Meditation brings
sweet music.
Satish Verma, 12 kwietnia 2023
Black tree
feeds the blood root.
There will be no sonic
connectivity.
How could I love
you so, at moonrise?
Shall I say the watercolor
has been washed?
It was not the culture
and style of time. The
renaissance wants to extract
the rare price.
Crisp nouns would
take revenge on the
unuttered words. The sacred
ism was no more valid.
Let the clouds cover
the bleeding sky.
Satish Verma, 11 kwietnia 2023
Night was pregnant
with the moon.
The execution will follow.
An arrow finds
a path, which leads you
in fog of baby steps.
Adoration lived in
the narrow eyes of firefly.
The dark bush sways in
flightless arms.
Embrace of an
angel goes amorously
tense. Negation leaves a
deep wound.
There would be no exit―
of the trembling pain,
live on the flames.
Satish Verma, 8 kwietnia 2023
Hurting myself
in piecemeal to reach
your meanings.
Paradise lost―
for one day, when the makeup
goes in flames.
I will be in sea,
when the valley burns deep
and a Digambara
finds the truth.
The mob was arranged
in place. Wasps had very
thin waists, but stings
were sharp.
The smile was
venomous. You will not
live to see the slaughter.
Satish Verma, 7 kwietnia 2023
The freckles were
appearing on the face
of Venus―
Arms broken.
A man-eater was shot
dead, while feeding.
The reddened skin
invites a vespa. Sometimes
you love the stings.
You wait for
the sunsets, before the
Venus flytrap shuts.
Drifting on the
dust road, I start
searching my lost address.
How will you hear
my voice?
Satish Verma, 6 kwietnia 2023
The trauma will not go,
I will go to sea.
My lips reciting veda.
You hire the new currency
to buy a kiss of bodiless lover.
Sky offers the moon.
Infallible palm
spreads the leaves foe your
footfalls not to single
under the sun.
I speak wordlessly
you listen by eyes.
Mercy kissing comes
in vogue. You have increased
the surrender value
before the Agni.
Satish Verma, 5 kwietnia 2023
I am scared.
You are becoming human,
looking back at the
colored leaves falling in autumn.
Was your pain
ripened? And you bled
poems? Ah you were the―
first wooly animal!
Surreal. Dancing
with beautiful words to
entice the lies. To woo
the narcisstic mode.
Thought of dying
shimmers like a fish in silvery
water. I won't throw
the net in your eyes.
River will not drink
its water.
Satish Verma, 4 kwietnia 2023
Home coming
was not true. A character
remained unread.
What image was
holy? You walk barefoot
after worship to listen
the voices of earth.
The volcano weeps
for centuries, waking
the flames one day. What
were the questions
which had no answers.
A pink bandana
becomes the heartache
of moon. No star was
worthy of you.
The book wipes out the
new sermons.
Satish Verma, 2 kwietnia 2023
Will you break the
golden triangle, one day,
and come to river?
Time-lapse memory.
I will meet you midway to
hold your rough hand.
Do me a favor.
Write the other name of fire.
When you walk on the
sleepingvipers.
Can you push the
rock like Sisyphus after
refusing to color the night?
Rose is rose. Can
you commit for black petals
which will stay
in hot sun?
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