Satish Verma, 26 maja 2022
Mounting surveillance
on myself after snapping
hyphenated bond.
I will set you free
from the white paper, carrying―
your beautiful face.
The slanting eyes
will haunt me in dark, I will
turn around and cry.
When did rift emerge―
while playing the moons? The lake
was ready to drown me.
Satish Verma, 25 maja 2022
Sometimes words
are very cruel. You
cannot chew them.
For the spirit of―
dying moon, you
wear a death mask.
Sitting on a wind cheater, in
tower of pain, you
want to understand the breed
of conflicts, fuelling the duels.
Yes or no, you have
to come with me. Stones
will not shame you anymore.
The black spots―
of dream-dropped roses,
smell of family dust in the
eyes of white ghosts.
You fatten the flames.
Satish Verma, 24 maja 2022
You must act now,
to deceive yourself. Laugh,
when you want to cry
in blue silence.
Getting ready to choke on
the unspoken words―
of committing a sin of speaking
the truth.
Unaltered ego of lynx eyes
goes through the walls of double-blinds.
The drugs were fake and
faith was dead.
With whom you want to
share the brickbats? The cheats
will ride the colossus and
the new moon will rise red.
Satish Verma, 23 maja 2022
The stones will speak for
river bed― a perfect home
for drowned principles.
Like shrew you enter
the belly of jewels to talk
to a bronze Buddha.
He stands in vigil,
your godhead, after the thieves
plundered the frames.
The small hands pointing
the pistols at the heads of
ancient fathers.
Satish Verma, 22 maja 2022
The dust to dust phase
in between, you
did't want a self-destruction
to resurrect a dying myth.
Only God knows. Why
there was only the body language
to explain the miracle.
You wake up a frog
from hibernation. There was
no drought. Plenty of rains.
No nightmares. One has to change
the climate shift.
A muted denial stays
in throat. You wanted to say
the whole truth about life,
which never was uttered.
Scoliosis tilts the water
balance. You cannot carry the
vessels on head. Doubts
would play on the script.
Author had promised to live again.
Satish Verma, 21 maja 2022
Just wanted to be
myself today, ripped after
the apocalypse―
of stainless bodies.
You pull down the era of
earthen lamps from ruins.
Give me a wrapped
guilt. I am a boat in water
without wooden oars.
Black eyes stitched
to dolls. They were going to
wed the white gods.
A knife's cult invokes
the barren cave. You had planted
the severed heads.
Satish Verma, 20 maja 2022
Can you foresee the
future, the unstable peak, the
ground's underneath tremble?
A lonely moon sits on
the palm― watching the risqué
world go to long sleep.
I am nowhere in
this crazy― maddening race of
musical chairs.
Unsure, I meet the
blue eyes of the lake, ready to
jump into my leaky boat.
Satish Verma, 18 maja 2022
Homeless, you
remained on the
wrong side of moon.
Trying to steal
yourself from light.
Now money speaks,
undoing Fabian formula.
Why one should exit
from the cabal of choosers?
Your infirmity will
sink you in wet sands.
When salvias were blooming,
you wanted to become
an accomplice of a sage.
Killing without crime.
Sometimes you fill
your life with meaningless words.
A trivia of hurting others.
Satish Verma, 15 maja 2022
At middle of nowhere
I don't want to believe
in your truth.
In white robes
a crowd, like mushrooms
of same genes, raising their
heads, after paying obeisance to
mother's mausoleum.
It was still a face
of terror, my trampled
future in our nemesis.
Was it a divine curse?
I remain, who I was. Unscathed
unharmed, after you left
before the knif's plunge.
The alternate damage was
mine. I will bear the asp's
bite in my glory.
Closing the door of
crypt was not my choice.
Satish Verma, 14 maja 2022
Hips and the rose hips.
You bite your tongue. Desire
has many connotations.
You always feared
of a free fall. I rise. The
war will continue.
I permit myself
to talk to the waning moon.
The clocks stop taday.
A train whistles by.
The river trembles violently
under the bridge.
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