20 February, 2017

Moody Effect

When you were you,
me picked up the words-
you did't say.
You stir up a verse,

incendiary enough-
to start the chakras of sorrow.

Why to believe in
reincarnation, when carnations
in your eyes won't die.

A bloodbath for
believing in nothingness-
of innocence in the folds of time.

The seeds were in mode
of dispersal, of hate
and insults.The crowds were thinning.

A strange thing was going to happen.
Dark sky would descend
randomly to capture the speed.

Satish Verma

Pure Mundanity

It should not have happened.
But it has. For a god
of dreams, there was
no paradise.

You had become an alien
to your body. Split scenarios.
A fight going on―
between two selves.

Every morn, a shock comes,
a revelation pops up. You
fall, a victim of civil war―
in surprise.

The headlights on, you
were driving straight into
the bright sun to burn
your wings.

Satish Verma

19 February, 2017

In Stillness

A long night―
unending was,
the wait for the sickle moon.

Midnight,
shooting stars―
you are still breathing?

Doleful cry―
of the crickets. Why
the rain has stopped?

I was talking―
to the clouds
for a favor.

Satish Verma

Trying To Sleep

For a lake feel
to find the four-leaf clover
grazing your absence.

But the road does not run.
And I cannot reach
the wicked rapture.

Where the gray sky
meets the water's shadow
every wave weeps for the moon.

Like a dragonfly skimming
the import, floats on the
dampened page of life.

You will not be able to sleep
in this full moon.
The pilgrim hawk was flying
very low.

Satish Verma

18 February, 2017

The Will

When I asked you to
drop the millstone―
a bunch of dreams,
you wanted to move away from sun.

Building melatonin,
after visiting the shrine―
in dark. The deity has
started taking a both.

Helium― the noble gas.
How high will it take you,
in a balloon, which was rising
towards the Mars?

Crashed. I break into
pieces of terra cotta. I don't
want to leave the earth. Spread
my ashes on the beach.

Satish Verma

Destructiveness

You were comfortable,
when you abused in native speech.
After the conviction,
there was smoke and ash.

Bring down the white plumes
from the volcano's crater,
and begin the swan song
for the sake of vanishing grace.

It is my turn now to
walk in penumbra, wrapping
off the dark core of human mind
and give a prelude to matephors.

Below the wings, the
trapped wind lifts the fallacy
of a fall when you were
already buried in a shadowless flesh.

Satish Verma

17 February, 2017

This Summer

The candle burns
your thumb.Night will
not contain the light.

How you will write
the beginning of a tragic tale,
when you don't know the end?

Your voice was buried
in the soundscape of howling winds.
No star was ready to lift the veil.
The shadows of unseen are legthening.
I cross your boundaries
to know my destiny.

The woods are smouldering
without sparks..My fingers are
singed and feet blackened.The unknown path
will receive your footprints
and you would start seeing
in the rage of night.

Satish Verma