Loss Of Identity

It was chillingly true.
You walked out─
of the soot, without
leaving any footprints.

There were some very
hard questions. Why─
did you snap,
while sparrows were mating?

Carnage. The roses
were burning inside. The
red cherries shriek and
run for the amnesty.

On the terrace, the yellow
moon descends for a─
word. Why the nukes were
pointed towards the spiders?

Satish Verma

THE SACRED REVENGE

Infamous in death.
You stop fighting─
with me. I will ask the dynasty,
Where was your enemy?

It was within you, he
said. Crawling in the dark─
poems. Will you invite
the monk for the atonement?

Spiritual? Between the
sentences, you fall asleep.
Green-crockery turn to a
naked statue, for comfort.

The black lips start
kissing the red hooks.

Satish Verma

MYSTERIOUS

Grip loosening;
the lesser evil─

will liberate you─
from the nights terror.

The moon bleeds,
in your bed.

A raw wound─
unblinks in pain.

No words will speak
for the fallen icon.

The death has extracted
its price.

Black milk exudes
from the round breasts.

Sun was rising.

Satish Verma

ZEITGEIST

The auspicious death
in moonless night.
Anxiety meets the ultimate.

What was left now
to cultivate the kiss
of unknown. Everything

has been spread on the bed.
The knife, the heart and
the parting lips.

The purity was at stake.
Spiteful and maligned, you
tear off the tender drape.

The black silence
descends in the gash of the
memory. A white marble bleeds.

Satish Verma

STUBBORNNESS

It was spirit of the time.
The lethal trade of─
missiles, someone was sending free.

You collect the cachet
of bleak weather. The
roses were in bloom.

Trying to conceive the
buttercups in the blue─
frame of melancholia.

I err, and find myself
in sleep after the contact.
A genetic gratitude overwhelms.

You catch the stings
blindly. The other sin will
take care of itself in blood.

Satish Verma

DESCENDING PEACE

After a hard day
a game-changing starts,
igniting the night.

You are buried
in stitches. The wounds
are devoid of blood.

Will you split the─
silence along the words?
There was no awareness now.

A persona
becomes a revolution. The streets
are painted red.

The monument
drifts. You wash the landscape
with moonlight.

Satish Verma

Getting Nowhere

That was a pioneer,
lunatic moon,
and me an unwilling partner.

The panther leaps again.
I suffer from
stab to stab.

The giver, sucks,
in genocide.Adoration
becomes a scourge.

One malingerer
leads to another.
The healer was very sick.

My master was a fake
The book was empty
and the print was gone.

Satish Verma

LIPREADING

Overdriving
the silence in zero light,
flickers of sickle moon were
fading.

There was a conflict between
reason and
conscience. My father was
smiling.

Where was the gold, he asked
walking with his wooden─
stick in jungle of tears?
I kept the door ajar.

A smoke engulfs my eyes.
Before he died, he took
a promise from me.
I would not be visible.

Satish Verma

Blackened Seeds

A hot body
was a hymn to the night.

I will drink
the moonlight.

In December─
a poem? Words freeze

in full bloom. The
corona becomes blue.

A rose bud breached.
Beast was out.

Satish Verma

HUMBLING

I love you in poverty of
words;
when you are not seeking
anything.

A dusky strength, self-
deprecating,
holding forth the virtues of
self-denial.

What was the awareness of
a blind?
Of shadows of migrating birds
in moonlight?

Hold my extended arm. May
be you can fall,
looking without eyes in the depth
of the sea.

Satish Verma

Graphics

Drunk at
midnight, playing with
moon squibs.
*
Hearing─
a nocturne, the spirit soars,
when you are drowned.
*
A galaxy
invites me for a night vigil.
Some elixir will rain.

Satish Verma

LAMENTING

For unspoken answers,
there was always the─
question, why hawks
were needing the peace?

Tied to innate fringes,
I want an explicit display.
The prologue was very
misleading.

War was inside and
outside. Were you a hobbes-
ian? I am not afraid
of death.

Reacted so violently.
The colored shirts should be
taken off. Let us see
the scars!

Satish Verma

A LOVE SONG

When the intellect was
defiling the unwritten book;
half-read, you reach for epiphancy.

Why you had to kill yourself
on the swing, before reaching─
the peak? Searching for escape?

I cannot know you, O flame.
Do not go beyond the sky.
My wings twist like nasturtiums.

Last night a city wept in─
my arms. There were no roses─
left and, no cut glass nudes.

They bleed, when you dig
out the roots. The croci were
planted by me when snow had melted.

Satish Verma

UNFINISHED SCRIPT

Your hands were chopped off.
How will you write
the poem now?

*

Truth was─
an alloy. Need to mix some
lie in pure gold.

*

Why did the
roses cry? The saint was
not in the tomb.

Satish Verma

Climacteric

Tonight when you deploy
the pillow to block the doors
and the skin fails; a moon
will enter by sealth from
the window in virgin black night.

I will bring forest flames from
where, adoration never stops.
There may be a disconnect─
when you kill the time; yet
turmoil rises with sensuality.

A fluid design appears
in blue dark. There was balka-
nization in the limbs. I grab
the waterfalls, climb the strings
and reach the bliss of a poem.

Satish Verma

Recollection

After the prank
call, the death returns to room q
for her friend.
*
You were drinking
moon in dark. A door opens
for the guest.
*
There would be
no elegy. A poet will die
today, anonymously.

Satish Verma

YELLOW ROSES

Have not written a single
word today, for you.
As if I was fishing
without a line.

Mixing the precursors
on the hills to invite the
mustard moon, for a─
dance with kingfishers.

There was no grief, no
scars. My hands becoming
empty. Parrots are gone.
There was no speech, no goodbyes.

The book is blank. Un─
printed pages. Nothing more
to be said. Only a smoke
tracing a face inside a face.

Satish Verma

Grains Of Wood

Read me a poem.
The lightening has touched again─
my raw nerves.

*

I say, don’t
climb the terrace. Bougaivillea
has made it a home.

*

I have come,
a longway to meet my lover,
the solitary moon.

Satish Verma

WAITING TO BLINK

Eating circles in the sky
I ask you to step outside
the space. It was time!

I will alter the succession
of flesh to spirit.
Sky was overcast, when
mercury was falling.

The thread breaks. Your
theory falls without wings.
Chandeliers chase the─
shadows on the walls.

You start collecting the
tomorrow and the morrows.
There were no more yester-
days. Ashes will stay in urns.

The grass remains wet with dew!

Satish Verma

Colloquy

Will you wait for me
till the moon parts the clouds
and the lake looks serene?

A reticent encounter;
I want to speak through-
silence. A shadow play will do.

Mystic nights weave-
a conspiracy. The insects
hover like words.

A lamp? No I will
burn my bridges to illuminate
the river.

Between the math-
and a story lies
the bloody corpse.

Satish Verma

ALONG THE DOTS

What would you seek
from the collection-
of lyrics?
It is getting dark.

Dismantling the notes,
I heard, when tears
were sitting dead in-
the crying eyes.

Life reeks with the violence,
from inside. You wanted
one more religion to
atone for the stink.

But the signs will not
convey. I become the war,
the missile to destroy
my own kingdom.

Satish Verma

ONE COLD MORNING

After a─
good shower, moon was
braiding the clouds.

*

Dawn, December.
Recently washed trees getting ready
to drink the sun.

*

The dew drips.
I collect the elixir
to die again.

Satish Verma

Boudaries

By genetic accident─
I fall in your way.
A city sleeps between the arms.

Will you give me
a nickel of memory?
I have lost my home.

What do I do
with the moon? The night
has called for the sun.

Making a nest for
the sparrows. Want to
hear the domestic voices.

Here, the dreams
go. I am selling the
family silver.

Satish Verma

The Closed Window

When─
you were taking lovers,
a tunnel collapsed.


*

The vision
rolls back. The moon
releases the dark secrets.

*

A collaborator
gives in. The street spreads
the names.

Satish Verma

THE BIRTH PANGS

It is now.
The call of unknown.
A doting mother─
writes a child.

I am, collecting─
the words. To speak for the
death, which was hestitant
to come,
against the will of grass.

The grassroots diplomacy,
catches the wind.
Abandons the footpath,
goes to the marbled floor.

What do I do─
at dusk? Become wordless
like a deep sea─
waiting for the moon
to bring the tides?

Satish Verma

THE STINGING WITHDRAWL

Barefoot you reach
for candidacy to
get partitioned.
The hatred had divided
the grass.

The suspense
was intense when
earth failed to
accept the─
defeat.

A drinking─
cloud will settle
the score with
the flames.

Consequently the─
sky falls on
all the roses, making
your vision blurred.

Satish Verma

SOOTHING CANDOR

The absolute
had become contentious.
You hit the road.

*

To find peace
and unwholeness, which
gives you, yearning.

*

The grand design
fell short of easthen lamps.
The warehouse was empty.

Satish Verma

Something Dressy

A kingfisher
would like to have no borders,
no moongates.

*

Sleep not, when
the moon rises. I will call
the moonflower.

*

The dusk
has a short vision of
a crescent moon.

Satish Verma

CRISIS MOMENT

Stakeholders,
are coming.
There was conflict between
logos and mythos.

One black thorn
was in the flesh.
You come out of the body
to find the window.

One long eel─
surreptitiously enters,
in the guts─
to pluck your eyes out.

But you were
already dead─
after the search of slant light
coming from the liberation.

Crossing the
time zone,
you enter the black hole
traveling at zero hour.

Satish Verma

Sharp Murals

Nevermore you will talk
of the forked tongue.
The genie was out─
in the jungle of legs.

Hunger was in plain sight.
You were wary of the wild─
dogs hounding at your gate.
An augury of some spilled blood?

Lachrymal, the soot trickles
down from the black eyes on─
the marbled breast of a lone
survivor in the city of tombs.

Exhume you must the naked
truth? I will not ask the name
of the ravisher, in this crowd
of fast disappearing shoes.

Satish Verma