Scalding Me

A lamplit page
that smells your body.
I still remember the
cajoling maneuver to give
me a spin.

Oysters. They were crawling
to eject the pearls. And
spiders weaving a net
to trap my thoughts. A
fly lands in the labyrinth.

War of attrition. A tremor
shakes the pillars. Moments
of disintegration. The fragments
throw the footprints in
your hands.

You cannot write your
name on your book.

Satish Verma

The Vinegar Test

Loading the twin calyculi
at the dawn. Cotton grass
will get an―
extortionate price.

Silence was dead.
And as were the protests
of levitating poppies.

Chasing a colored storm
becomes a craze, these days.
Bystanders will witness
the fall of blue night.

You want to unfollow
the begonias now, cultivating
the unkissed music on the
lips of swaying reeds.

Satish Verma

Between The Accidents

After the ammonia leak,
there was a visual hallucination.
An ad hoc proxy of stardust
will not settle on the lotus.

I grieve for the sobbing moon
who was kept waiting to―
wash the feet of a sunken god.
There were no wreaths for the departed.

Death had a debt to pay,
to a hungry child, who was
given a chance to see the light,
but was not fed by the night.

To perpetuate the crime, there
was a syndicate, who would bet
for the nested game, in lieu,
of wiping the green tears of earth.

Satish Verma

No Hatred

Step aside.
Tension of mining gold
barrels through
mating preference.

The shadows under the
eyes were lengthening.
A childhood alley had―
the cul-de-sac.

A face trembles in your
hands when you kiss
the tears of a melting peak.
The body collects the honey.

A sleeping moon drifts
like a fallen virgin,
covering the face in the headscarf
of brazen clouds.

Satish Verma

Civil Resistance

Being me
like a butterfly I cannot
fold the wings.

Why do we need to
burn the orchard grass
for an interim exit.

My bête noire was me.
I would not separate the
statecraft from worship.

Snubbing the trees,
I want to climb tall to know, why
were we using sarin and mustard.


On the road to avatars,
I won’t believe, that a released
soul should come back.

Robotic, someone was
searching a lost forest.

Satish Verma

To Full Moon

Sometimes,
you let it go,
the uneven fall of the tempest.

Which body,
would you turn on,
now; after inhaling―

the jessamines? An
overpowering instinct,
takes hold of you―

to death wish. I want
to make you sit
before me and ask―

why have you fallen
in love with a
fireball. A hidden mystery―

unflolds now. We knew
each other’s gift
of summer, hurting without knowing.

Satish Verma

Path Between The Nights

O human face,
coming from the furry past;
now I want you to
become, my death.

The naked ape, has
started hiding the tainted
shirt, loses battle,
and becomes beast again.

The acid attacks on
the nascent roses, I see
the ruins of frozen dreams.
Will you fetch the moonlight?

Carrying the cross, I choke
on my words. The lovers
will never be the same.

Satish Verma

The Otherside

Calibrating,
the orgy in sky.
Will you wish away, the
perpetual collisions?

The astronomer
does not want to visit
the temple, where
the celestial bodies were making love;
on the walls.

Sunflowers shedding
the petals. Want to change
the orientation. Moon-bitten
now amorous in dark.

Satish Verma

Homage To Unknown

Half-living in your gaze
a prisoner of messed―
up life in a petri dish.

Streaking in blood and salt
your inoculation failed.
Now a missed abortion,

takes place. You cannot
defend your freedom, before
the ruthless destiny.

The courage versus scourge
of dust and rage, of
the blowing grains of skeletons.

In my crescendo, you
will hear the most intense,
music of a resilient spirit.

Satish Verma

A Massive Withdrawl

The moon was coming up
in cross-dressing style
from he to she.

Smoking in pensive mood;
itching to be ready
for last farewell.

The evil makes you feel
good, to prove the
unrestricted love between the two.

A slight criticism for
Sisiphus. Why does not
he sing like a poor farmhand?

To die young makes them
cry. Why you were burning
your fuel without running on blazing coals?

Satish Verma

Intensity Of A Flame

Without audible conflict
I invoke your face
from withered names.

It was always a big NO,
when I would seek comfort
in high sounding verdicts.

An unspoken, painful,
agony to script for an
unwritten foe.

The muscle will twitch
involuntarily, to taste
one’s own ink.

In the waning moon
I will come at your door
to ask for a poem.

Satish Verma

Hurting Myself

The blue stare
will stretch on the horizon.

A princely moon
enters the perforate shell―

in the oviform eye,
of the bruised lake.

I was ready to drink
the potion, the viper offers.


Tears and laughter, the
twin ecstasy of dying

by hinged fangs.

Satish Verma

The Undefined

A green hunt of words
does not dare to insert
the isthmus as indelible
mark between a future
and an unknown.

The fear becomes me. An
odius entry. Will you
help me to find the variations
in the storms of life deviating
from their narmal orbits?

I cannot separate you
my song, from the meaning
of the script. The indefinite thing
has the text of echos
coming from the stars.

The baby moon is climbing
up, to remind me: night
will not stay for long.

Satish Verma

The Days Of Agony

Were you the face of God
in the temple of tooth.
When fire was playing The Return
of the Desert.

I feel cheated, when talking
of nonviolence, when you go for
self-immolation in the
water of straits.

The military boots had failed,
to quench the thirst of dead.
How would you dig the graves
of mauled, tribal gods?

The final mile of human race
comes in the face of triumph
of the death, sharing
the borders of flowing blood.

Satish Verma

Generously

Different hues were lit up.
A water drop falls on my lips.

I will ask the words
to traverse the circle of clouds
for cascading moon.

let the mob―
climb the mount of greed.
I am here on the earth,

to meet the flames
of thoughts and shades
of wounds.

There is hope and the
chains. I will receive
them in ecstasy.

Satish Verma

Your Half-Open Eyes

Moon dust was sprinkled
once more on mangroves
to extend the war
across the border.

This was an intricate rite
after the sad error, of
changing the itinerary
to pathless liberation.

The violence has spilled
over in the city of roses.
There was no water left
in the turbid estuary.

The herd was coming
to cross the sands of time.

Satish Verma

Pryingly

Nomadic words
do not stay with me
for long, after the betting.

The gamble was
pivotal, to find the
peace in jungle.

The alacrity to
remove the claudication,
when the heart stopped.

Objectively, a truth
will be dissected
to take out the lie.

Immoral was the
podium, which allowed
you, to stand for a sermon.

Satish Verma

Lone Wolf

On ladder, you climb
for espionage, with
a feeling of an evil.

Somewhere, somebody
pulls the strings,
at arterial roads.

You put yourself
in harm’s way for
exotic blooms.

A civil disobedience, starts.
A bone of contention was
the muscle of love.

One on one
tooth for tooth,
lips for lips.

Satish Verma

Covertly

If,
I was not afraid of,
the thing, but the signature
strike of a copycat
in the art of dismantling.

You,
try to pull down brick
by brick, the
jeopardy. A dead premises
becoming alive.

How,
will you, numb with pain,
explain the poetry of victim’s trail,
becoming a Buddha?
Can you find a bo tree for me?

The,
grape hyacinth, I still
carry your globular blue
eyes, chasing my
kisses. Why in the evening?

Satish Verma

Back To Savagery

Hacked to death.
All I scribbled on―
your breast.

I was on the verge of
a confession. I loved
you like never before.

A full moon, like a
toddler was hopping
towards me.

Never reached the
perfection. Do not have
any wants.

Getting the burns
from the cushions.
I will call you later.

Satish Verma

Long-Feared Night

Eyes half-shut, you are seeing,
unseeing to house the failing light.

When the tornado writhes down, will
you come to clean the rubble?

And splash the bird, the sky in purple?

I am afraid of myself
to explore the craft of non-living.

When the silence descends, I will
know myself, like the bone of Buddha.

The words will not give
any relief, whipped into terror.

Satish Verma

Half-Drowned

The knot was broken
from the waist,
as if we were struck
by a bolt.

Thinking must stop.
Violence was there within
the pods, to explode and
eject the seeds.

The silent rape of a
sleeping book. You cannot
tear off the pages,
limb by limb.

You will not read the
past. Would not write
the future. The present roars
through the window starting a brush fire.

Satish Verma

Black Script

After the skin, the corti
were trying to measure the silence
before the cloudburst.

The white noises were
very accurate, disciplined shouts
ready to pull down the stapes.

A cochlear fall from the
great heights of vesuvian peak.
No matter how big was the chasm.

You have given up yourself
to broken stirrups. The planets
begin the dance without the god Apollo.

The road never ends. The
rider stands alone to ride the moon
gliding over the empty sea.

Satish Verma

Kaleidoscopic

In shadow of the moon, why
an illict bone, indentured
to the spirit of Buddha?

The footsteps were retraced
to find out the angst
of disappearing grass.

The blue eyes must remain
unclosed to print the
image of a pink cloud.

This desperate retraction.
I will not be able―
to write a single poem.

The unholy exit was
damaging the steel of a
proud man, still standing erect.

Satish Verma

Why Are You Blue?

The wayfarer, searching
for the leaf-pains―
fallen from the lone tree.

Some holy script will
tell the angst of the sap,
which would not reach the roots.

A responsible weep,
will divulge your name to―
forest bees, waiting for the moon.

I watch the setting sun
with trepidation.
Night will bring again, the blasts.

Satish Verma

Accusing Whom?

The unthinking begins again
watching a lunar
explosion.

The smallest droplet:
I never had any agenda,
holding on to emptiness.

A dark jumps out at me.
I push the light
forward―

to see your face, O
invisible. Where the road
ends? I want to start

my new journey, unloading
the accumulated wealth
of erudition.

Satish Verma

A Smile Falters

You were collecting the
clocks, to stall
the time; for a pathless journey
to nowhere.

Quietly the colors
start disappearing. Only
a blank void
hangs on the eyes.

The body, is at work
to teach the soul. Fat will
singe the mind. You will
never know, why did you suffer.

My sleep was ordained
to become eyeless. I
will never watch the dreams.
Blind spot snaps out the light.

If I become you, the
freeze will set in.
The blackbirds are
circling.

Satish Verma

From The Womb

The póetique listening
to the reason, as foggy
as the past, untelling the
future of midnight onslaughts.

The rain of emptiness, was
playing havoc with the
fiery cross. No orchestrated
withdrawl, I am―

preparing myself for the
supersonic cruise missiles of
vendetta. Golden heart,
you will carve out and eat.

The bluebirds. They had left
unannounced. This summer
the snowy peaks will melt,
for a lone tree.

Satish Verma