Satish Verma, 15 listopada 2021
Break your silence.
Stay for me.
Face-to-face, after
my first inning,
prey for me.
To know the whole truth
I will change the
ecosystem.
The fake reals,
would become the change,
you never wanted to see.
Smitten by your verses
I was in distress. The
sexless army of thoughts
stand in snaky queues―
beating the big gods.
A nickel for your
eyes. Why they have become
fathomless?
Satish Verma, 14 listopada 2021
That mad truth.
The unborn was knifed
long back. Now you throw―
the net in the crowd.
I had found you
after the centuries of conflict―
in small eyes, looking
for the stolen myths.
I want to hold your
face one day and bury it
in my tears. It should not have
happened in the jungle
of jinxed plays.
The unmarked tree. I
had picked up the fallen fruit
to taste you. Would you
find me in dark?
Satish Verma, 13 listopada 2021
Moment of truth.
Bougainvilleas
on grass.
A visible absence.
I was searching―
you in poems.
Your fluid eyes.
My moon-clouds
ready to crash on the land.
In my cupped hands
I collect the tears
of the sky.
Satish Verma, 12 listopada 2021
Muzzle the ape, that
bleeds the tall tree,
tearing apart the blue birds.
I saw it coming.
I was overwrought; watching a
beheading― of the innocent,
in the town square.
People standing in queues to
grab the voodoos.
When you will end my woes
basking in the glory of blood?
O god, take away my chips,
my papers,
my pen.
I am tired of this deceit of man.
Everybody walks like a saint
on the holy banks
where flows the river of tears.
Satish Verma, 11 listopada 2021
In twilight
the sickle moon,
waits for the dark.
What a kill.
Roses in bloom
watch haying.
Halix of life
uncoils, to warm
the man.
The butterflies
shiver in sun.
Fine weather.
Satish Verma, 10 listopada 2021
Today I am alone―
with myself,
not even with wet eyes.
A corona intends to go into flames.
Stars unaligned―
where was the need of the god
to commit a failure?
The ruins must stay for ever.
Hurtling towards the sun
you wanted to know― why black scorpions
live in the flares of light?
Nothingness bites you. The
despair hurts, because you wanted
the freedom to die without
inventing the Deity.
My guilt should not be identified.
Satish Verma, 8 listopada 2021
Under your eyes
shadows, my poems curl up.
When do I call you?
From wires, tiny drops
of dew hang perilously.
Sun was going to kiss.
First I take you, then
I will cry for the last time.
Going to meet the gods.
Satish Verma, 7 listopada 2021
Silence was so loud―
a pain ago, would you
resume me now,
between a scion and stock.
The sap had dried up.
A tiny human inside a pen
draws the borders
of bleeding lacerations.
Black mouths,
confront the grizzled gods.
I want them now
in water.
Suicide of a fig tree was
evident. It had eaten its
own figs. No leaves
were left now.
Satish Verma, 6 listopada 2021
I will pick up the dust in
a swift scoop-from where
the stars fell and step out,
of the shadows of light.
A détente begins, between
the limbs and eyes, to hold
in check the flames
licking the doors.
How far was the moon
beyond the money's reach? The
man has bared the―
earth's womb, with skulls questioning.
The sucked out blue lake
runs for the shade of wandering
clouds. We divide the thick
silence with unspoken abuses.
Satish Verma, 4 listopada 2021
I will pick up the dust in
a swift scoop-from where
the stars fell and step out,
of the shadows of light.
A détente begins, between
the limbs and eyes, to hold
in check the flames
licking the doors.
How far was the moon
beyond the money's reach? The
man has bared the―
earth's womb, with skulls questioning.
The sucked out blue lake
runs for the shade of wandering
clouds. We divide the thick
silence with unspoken abuses.
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