Satish Verma, 21 february 2024
When you shed face
I will wait for your rebirth
like Luna Moth.
Would have been
an achievement had you
remained human!
Why should we live
in different time circles
of awakening?
Satish Verma, 20 february 2024
Asking moon to
be mine at the time of
hyphens and the dots.
Of agony. Burn all
the pages of book. No
marigolds to toss.
The worn body wears
the cloak of yesteryears,
walking bare hands.
Satish Verma, 19 february 2024
In your nirvana
border pains continue to
find inner peace.
Hope has no flesh
and bones. Difficult to
tame my blue body.
A butterfly lands
on your lips to cover
eternal smile.
Satish Verma, 18 february 2024
I stand in middle
of water and juxta pose the days.
Words come and go. Havens beefed.
Who bargained the faux pas?
Don't dismantle my dream world. I have
reached the edge of dying child of god.
No complaints. It is raining.
Blood is buried in the greens. I
don't doubt the integrity of the failure.
Satish Verma, 16 february 2024
The orphan asked
grim reaper, do we live
after the death?
Does the creator
also dies to beborn
again to regret?
Were you loyal
to humanity? What was
religion of god?
Satish Verma, 15 february 2024
Sometimes I will
miss you badly. You won't cry
easily unashamed.
Legacy of stairwell?
Wanting peace? Dying was
beautiful. Don't go.
When the words quit
your lips would move noiselessly
silent holocaust.
Satish Verma, 13 february 2024
Nothing to put in
words. You had placed
ampersands between
the names.
The subject you
wouldn't give up in summer
sun.The wars and moon walk.
One small hole
in the sleeve of Grim Reaper
ready to burn the house
of an angel.
One day you will
come back from odyssey
empty-handed. The
hummingbird had left the nest.
The game was not
yet over. The prophet
waits at the gate to welcome
dervish coming bare foot.
Satish Verma, 12 february 2024
Learning the art
of dying, cheating the ghosts,
talking to moon children.
Will you believe in
so much of death? An
octopus darting on sands?
In self-awareness
you look at the vast water.
The lake will accept you.
Aimlessly you want
to drift. A sick feeling takes
revenge and turns you into stone.
Somebody smiles.
Flickers like a candle,
before shutting down the beats.
Satish Verma, 11 february 2024
Supernova of love.
The black light. Was it a biographical
trauma to pay the respect way too far?
Beyond the truth, was
I there? I need not hunt the
gods to show me the human tragedy.
Is it the necessity to
follow the eternal faults? Wouldn't
become a subject to understand life.
Satish Verma, 10 february 2024
Transparency.
Where were you in dark,
in my intense moments?
A lonely spirit will
try to meet you
in blue moon.
Wading in shallow
waters, you speak slowly
to defend depth of pain.
The absolute
becomes nude. There was
no limit to draw the blood.
Uncensored, I
set up the stage for a
guillotine to punish sun.
It was a bright
sun day. The bells
will not ring.
Satish Verma, 9 february 2024
What an artifice. The
invisible becomes visible. I am not
what you are. That was Arte Povera?
When violence erupts
you won't stand like praying mantis,
waiting for a self portrait in an innocent pause?
As like Cleopatra, you
suspend in air like a hummingbird
asking, what would be the next terror without blood?
Satish Verma, 7 february 2024
Wanted to dip my
pen in light and draw
your face in golden lines
on dark clouds.
The time announces the
arrival of spirit. You land
like butterfly, on the
lips of voila for seconds
and fly away.
But you did not come
to say goodbye.
The bell tolls for
no one. Nobody dies today
to celebrate the departure
of death― gracefully.
I lived dangerously.
Satish Verma, 6 february 2024
Disappointed.
I look at my hands to
read your destiny.
I fall to kiss the
moon dust. You were
my desire in sleep.
The spirit hovers
like the golden eagle
to rest the talons.
I stop the game.
Some cards had remained
undealt. I win, I lose.
You were not the
angel. You were not the mortal.
Where do I put my relief?
Satish Verma, 5 february 2024
Between ethics and
ethos, your truth is very sad. The
pierced rose bouquet bleeds.
Like fawns in a blood
room. I don't know how to treat
life, when you are impersonal.
The art of annihilation
is known to everyone. Naked as blue
whale. The sea horse always stands.
steve, 4 february 2024
You don't have to tell me, what you think I want to hear...
And you don't have to get that close, if I'm something that you fear,
I'm not trying to burden you, to be someone your not...
And I won't ask of you, to do something you cannot,
But I'm not going to hide, the way I feel for you...
Or pretend that I don't hurt, when you know damn well I do,
I thought I found a friend in you, and maybe something more...
Someone whom for many years, I've been searching for,
I'm sorry for the love I feel, in my heart for you...
But I can't pretend it isn't real, if I wanted too,
I never ment for you to run, or feel the need to hide...
I'm sorry I came on so strong, because all the years I cried,
Love is so elusive, that one may never find...
As we hold on to the pain, it can render your heart blind.
Satish Verma, 4 february 2024
Unravished the
black moon was down
but not out.
I am being watched.
How the poem
prints itself on heart.
Curled up with
flower thoughts, staring
aimlessly in black void.
Wanted a brutally
honest truth, moon struck
but ready to give blond.
Who was desireless
being a saint. Paradox
always wins.
Satish Verma, 3 february 2024
Somedays with
human touch, I will talk
to white roses with
blood spots.
This was inner beauty.
The ferns start walking to
cover the wounds of earth.
A sea horse stands
erect in sea to salute
the warship.
Where we are going?
When you don't leave
your thumb print, the song
of nightingale is lost.
How do you want
to die in the hands of
deaf and dumb god?
Satish Verma, 2 february 2024
I am nowhere, living
in an urn. A feeling goes unwritten,
becomes a myth. My innocent body.
More pain, more longing.
Words without ink are printed
on your face. Now a kiss.
Once upon the dilemma was
to search for the last truth. You wanted
to give away your beautiful song.
Satish Verma, 1 february 2024
Let me be myself
in cloud of tears.
A streak of light
breaks the myth
of superlunary, when you
were at war with
leviathans of deep.
When hungry,
you were flawless in art
of love. It wakes you
from old thinking.
Hiding behind fears,
I freeze to wear the death
gown. The words crumble
under the weight of truth.
Life remains beautiful.
I don't want to leave you.
Satish Verma, 31 january 2024
I have not arrived
as yet, to meet myself.
Existence betrays.
After the shock, I
want to ask a question
in trembling voice "Why".
Where the flesh ends
at the edge of bones,
eyes will speak.
Unthinking, I
pick a rose, to prick
my fingers. That was
the truth.
Dying was easier,
than to live. Still I want
to stay back to see
the miracle.
Satish Verma, 29 january 2024
Another weeping star
comes to me. The twin
presence interacts.
Personified.
A pain sits with me.
I split into shards.
A spooky boom.
Water bends. I kiss
your scream.
White night.
Acacia breaks,
roots won't move.
Satish Verma, 28 january 2024
You disown all your
sins. Fat burns.
An aura prowls around
the temples.
The honor kill
will make you a living god.
Rusted heart wants
to achieve eternity.
The otherness, goes
for incarnation. Abstract
quality will explore
the song of the sea.
Life starts anew. You
were a fake genius. There
was a secret pact
to wear the veil.
Satish Verma, 27 january 2024
O black rose, why you
smell the body of a young
fawn after the run?
The sweat was sensual.
You want to kiss the burning
coals of brown eyes.
You always surprise
me in dark moon to put
up a savage fight.
Satish Verma, 26 january 2024
But I don't know
who was me, taking sunbath
to meet moon.
The marbles slip from
your hands to hit the white
mausoleum at dusk.
Dip any muse and
words bleed. I will not ask
for orphanage.
Satish Verma, 25 january 2024
Death would not stop
coming on the dirt road
of undanced goddess.
God of sins waits.
Light refuses to enter
the eyes looking at sky.
The beehive spills
to make you human of
vanishing tribe.
Satish Verma, 22 january 2024
Death would not stop
coming on the dirt road
of undanced goddess.
God of sins waits.
Light refuses to enter
the eyes looking at sky.
The beehive spills
to make you human of
vanishing tribe.
Satish Verma, 21 january 2024
Do not wade in
tears, in blood-deep wounds.
It was a black gold.
Moon was hauling
the night. There was no ending
of empty words. Silver
would not leap in
sun. I become poor in
the court of charity.
Satish Verma, 20 january 2024
Smitten by your holy
tongue, the muse melts
in the raging sun.
There was a deep
gorge between the hills.
My face turns blue.
Trembling hands will knit
splendent wreath for a
departing moon.
Satish Verma, 18 january 2024
You are beautiful,
still untouched by moon.
I am creating myth.
In small hours, I
release the pain at dusk
to touch you unsaid.
I think, not to think of
you, when nightingale comes
to collect your song.
Satish Verma, 17 january 2024
It was hazy in Plato's
cave, I was trying to study
the painting on wall.
Why do I fear for you?
Words have gone dumb
in full moon.
Was it a presence
without flesh, bones?
Only sparkling eyes?
I touch you warily.
Trembling I ask you to come
back in my twirling life.
You do not move.
It happens like never
before. Spirit weeps.
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