24 October, 2016

How Dazed?

Eons ago, it snapped.
You don't fit into the mold.
Like onion peels, I am trying
to open myself
holding the secrets.

you alway had to invoke
the inner god and―
forgive yourself.

With the same
left foot, always leading you
to truth. That was not now.
Your belief was going up in flames.

Who was sleeping
in your bed, nude, like the
moonbeam, when I was not there
to undemand, the eternal sleep?

Satish Verma

I Will Not Be Back

One small step, in dark.
A silver of fear
slaps you.

You move around
to confront the past.
It was the partition of night.
Cobra white, when
eyes would not listen.

You drugged the stone
on stone,
hiss on hiss,
hair on hair.

I did not touch you
like burning coal.

My waterfalls
on red salt, bring the
largest tears of moon glittering
eerie wet.

Satish Verma

23 October, 2016

What You Won't Say

Don't spell the deportation.
Mind seems split-
with a maddening feel.
Do you see what I see-

the invisible lines on
my hand, piercing your heart?
Do you hear, what I
hear- the Hum, which has
made you go crazy?

Dying to unspeak, you
hide between the leaves.The
borrowers come like Crab fish,
ugly and demanding.River
bed was drying up.

Black sticks, things not
required- get piling up.In
wheelchair, you push
a crying doll.

Satish Verma

The King Vultures Are Coming

The causal effect
was the kiss of the blind spot.
I wake up every morning
smelling blood.

The space animates you,
leaving the truth outside.
An unwritten message was lost
in the watering eyes.

The aquaduct dries up. You
get the cramps of city,
after the memes of swollen eyes.
Do not open the umbrella,
sun was hiding.

Your brain becomes wired.
Someone slaps a sticker on your lips.
You cannot cry. A muffled scream,
shatters the windows of the capitol.

Satish Verma

22 October, 2016

Violent Flaws

You call an all night truce
of all stripes in moonlight.
Only milk will flow in dark.


The violets had a secret to tell.
Tonight the moon will
appear red after meditation.


A single parent, gay, has
come to stay in line
to accept his godless defeat.

Satish Verma

Poem Of Summertime

And I will hear you
without noise,
in the yawn of night
when I will open
my wound!

Burning in the
intensity of time's blood
I will not touch
you in my dreams.

A fakir wants to leave his skin on the
rocks in sun to become
parchment, so that you can
write your name on it.

And my vacant eyes
in summer night, will search
the legend of undying
grace, in the wasteland
of life.

Satish Verma

21 October, 2016

Falling Debris

Purity of thoughts,
must limit the knowledge―

collective withdrawl from
the valley of words.

Each life you had changed
the bed, to meet the god, in different attires.

Hanged from the roof
to understand the pangs of poverty.

The unborn century will wait
for the collapse of identity.

Man has gone too far carrying
the burden of acoustics.

Satish Verma