Ordained Flaws

With tiny lips,
words come to you
to kiss the moon.

Night dwellers, with
fragile bones― they walk
into your domain,
opening the tear gates.

Again I think, fading away
was easier, when you fall
in love after the marginality.

Not despirate I was
destined to certain halt,
unceremoniously, quitting
the game.

You, who stands out
of range, will never know,
how a shooting star backfires.

Eros hits the wall
moment to moment
in sun rising.

Satish Verma

One Moonless Night

The musky night
descends slowly.
Mercury was rising
dressing the twilight.

You start eating your
nails, crossing the darkness.
I will not stop you.

The yellow dust had
settled, after you burned
down the family tree.

The icy bridge was
closed. No guest
would arrive.

The outreaching hands
were empty.
Time to shut the windows.
Moon was not going to knock at the door.

Satish Verma

The Road Going To Woods

Sometimes you hear the
strange voices― coming from
short distances, in half murder
of myths, when you
were strung in the shade
of glittering planets.

Blue knives and red wounds,
unearth your past. You miss your ancestors,
as if living on tree tops between
prayers and hymns.

The skin goes taut. You feed
the bones to stand erect,
to walk like a feral primate.
The script was changing, nor
the parchment.

Satish Verma

All The Questions

I would ask one day,
how close you were to me
to know my faults?

One day I will not
come home to repeal the dharma
of cosmic order and wars.

The midnight syndrome
looms large. Can you afford
to lose me in existential conflict?

I was not able to
stop the clock or make it
move slowly, when moments
count like words.

Are you listening to
fake people, stubborn lies?
Emotions stirred, you
fly like a blackbird.

So many questions,
promises and escapes.

Satish Verma

Silent Falls The Snow

The waking lips
in sleep, break the
vow of silence.

You join a stream
of conscience, while giving
back was not enough.

As if the musk deer
searches for his own scent
in bone color dreams.

You try to forget―
the arriving of snow, looking
at the trail of blood
on the grass.

The hunter will not wait,
for forgiveness from sky,
at unwincing pain of inward journey.

Satish Verma

Your Lips Tremble

You step out of the words.
Absence can not be replaced.

The hunger game begins,
I will now accept your velocity.

The wholeness may shatter,
when tears become a flame?

In alarm, the bones
knit the feathers. A god wants to fly.

It was your thought and
my pen, I will write with my blood.

A quick start for a suicide.
The futile debate will not end.

Satish Verma

Some Royality?

My tamed verses
were for you― from the day,
you were born.

Iridescent,
must you leave this dark horizon,
trailblazing through my wilderness?

I was not looking
at your helm, what I saw inside your
brown eyes.

No holds barred.
I stretch to bend your
rigid thumb, in celebration
of victory.

That was not physical
through it seeped in every pore
of me.

Feigning to be normal
was not true, under the
spell of your mute consent!

Satish Verma

Let Us Think

The essentia will lift
you for an assumption.
The castle was empty.

Negating the gravity
I remained lonely
after a nightmare.

Watching a hub pushing
out the enigma,
encrypting an unwritten message.

Between odds and
evens, lies a zero. Neither
this way nor that way.

You run very fast
from the fear of persecution.
Why did you downed the Phoenix?

Satish Verma

Why Do You Live?

The only choice was
to lose the hope
and unfollow your path.

A thinner moon
would decide, how cold
was lonely night.

A fear wears
the face of a beast to
freeze the blood in veins.

The lesser school
of learning, picks up the truth
from the streets.

I will wait.You don't
throw the challenge, I squirm
in your inertia.

The flames go up
in blue smoke.

Satish Verma

Flying Straight

Trembling,
you whisper― like an aspen
in self doubts.
No words were coming
no rhymes I heard.

I was here beside an angel
for honey bites.
No tears had flown,
no veils were drawn.

As I asked for nothing,
you give me bit by bit
the grains of truth, filtered
by extreme pain.

Am I not playing
a gamble? Sneering the
ashes on god stones, to bring
you back, my religion,
my faith.

After all I measure you
as the peacock flies.

Satish Verma

No Titles

You said
this was it.

The fog over the
shoulders will
sweep the profiles.

You did not know
how to give, and I
would not know, how
to take.

Maples, pears, and ginkgos
will show the fallacy
of colors in autumn.

And you, unblinkingly
watch a
poet's dilemma.

And I would just only stare
into your eyes.

Satish Verma

Exploring

Angina, after
the vessel broke,
tumbling out all the gifts.

You will take a long walk
thinking about the moon
in wilderness of lonely trees
of mid December.

There were no blood―
spots on the street, after the
removal of hoofers.

You would not under―
line the red verses. The stray
full stops alter the pain.

When you repeat
the names, I start forgetting
who were the sinners.

Satish Verma

Morning Landscape

In shrinking façade
of sky, my ardor was on edge.
Will you target the―
moon now?

Like sitting in a
padded cell, you want to
tell― everything to god of violence.

Was the time really
ready to explode at the
face of sun, pay obeisance
to Kali?

The golden statue of
a nymph has come for sale,
in swish of a candle's flame.
Any price for humanity at large?

The cherry trees are
in bloom, shedding their
veils. Nobody stands under
them for fear of discovery.

Satish Verma

Like Rosetta Stone

White holes
in black teeth.
An empty truth bleeds.

A lesser light
fights the darkness in a ring.
There was no excuse
for harmony.

The earthen flame
meets the sun behind
the horizon. No more
violence should repeat.

The stripped candles―
cover their faces with melting
tears. You can snap only the wicks.

Your body becomes
a temple. You consecrate
it with blood.

Satish Verma

Ethological Signs

A street sense awakens
the purple rage.
Ah. Bougainvilleas,
the winter has set in.

There was no encounter.
No bloodshed.
Only bloodstones were displayed
for sale.

A domestic brawl
between the religious signs.
Each sun-flower should
have a separate name.

The pomelos will not
come this season.
There was war between
the brothers.

Satish Verma

Crab Apples

Tree nuts and squirrels,
play a game, as the day climbs up.
The food chain moves swiftly.

Walking on dead leaves
I was trying to find the truth.

How do I take you,
when there were no steps
to ascend the future. There was
no history of time to come.

And we are always trying
to weigh each other.

A ceramic goddess was hit,
by pellets of frozen rain.
Decapitated I pick up the head
and place on the stump.
She smiles.

You float the words.
I catch them, and write a poem.

Satish Verma

Apocalyptic

A lone tree
waits.

The song of
flames.Dib. dub.
Dub, dib.

The ocean was
rising. Make a wall
of tears.

Nobody would
listen to the―
rage of earth.
Brown men still
drink tea.

A lone tree
waits.

Satish Verma

Whose Fault?

Coming of age―
the ruins,
now want to
dismantle the man.

A crypt
behind the crypt
will be opened to
invite the goddess
of wealth.

I remained poor
being a seeker.
Where did you reach
floating in
river of blindness?

Satish Verma

Effortlessly

Negotiating
your tomorrow, to
bring you near me―
at eye level affinity.

As night breaks
for sun, you shine with
a strange beautiful poem.

The anklets
learn civility and vibrate
with a heavenly hum.

A pause,
then a rapture of the deep.

The questions
come on surface, for
eternal answers from the night's god.

Sometimes
truth becomes very elementary.

There was no piracy!

Satish Verma

Blood-Lipped Prayer

There was no beggining
no end.
Only an apology
for the credence.

The predators were
dirty. Peace comes
when you go
for war.

The angles guide
you to roil
under the stones
unremittingly.

Satish Verma

Why This?

Truistic but
dry, a poem
weeps.

You will not
find any lead―
in my bones, though
I have been eating
the pencils
while writing.

Truistic but
dry, a poem
weeps.

Satish Verma

Stolen Rib

In the rain's shadow―
I hear your murmur,
waiting for the first sound
of sunshine in late night's drizzle.

It was not enough
to remain soaked in dark.
Tears of sky will wash your eyes
to see clearly the dripping ambrosia.

Strawberry ride of
thoughts in distant stars, visits
me again and again. Why do I
clamor for dreams to become rainbow?

I will not foresee the
future. How green was my
present, you will never know.
I was king and I was the pauper.

Cuddling in May, the off pink
rioters are bleeding again.

Satish Verma

Still Thinking

Watching you
on the endless
road,
where sun
rises to fall.

Are you sure
there was a day
of reckoning?

*

Recklessly
stitching the
wounds, do you
smell the blood?

The relationship
has an apology
for remaining
foes.

Satish Verma

Unconcealed

Just as I think of you;
a jungle in your land
goes into flames.
And I stand in the golden dust
of a sun, where iced grass
starts smiling.

Where iced grass
smiles, the
pear leaves― still in their prime
colors, invite the show
to play autumn.

In the countries apart
do you touch the blue moon
at night, when you are tending
the sacred basil?

You will not know,
what you wanted to know― of
the unknown.

The magi have not brought any gifts.

Satish Verma

Reaching Out

In chills― your
face swims, In dark
fireflies soar to fly
into your eyes.

Missing them― the clouds,
when moon hurts.
A racoon jumps under
my window, when I brood.

The requiem revives
the culture of tears in an epic.
My book will never end.

Take this trail
of blood thoughts. What
was the kinship of words?

Can you read from
the stains of an empty
cup of tea? My life had been
like that.

Like moth-eaten I
hold my pen. When do I
stop writing?

Satish Verma

Not Charity

When the family
unites, rains come and
ice starts melting.

The roaming leaves of
saddened trees, hopped earlier like
small birds, and then
landed on snow to make
their burial dives, with
the stalks dangling upside
down like legs.

You would find the holes
like bullets in the heaving chest
of dying earth.

A baby squirrel
scuttles on the deck for any
forgotten nuts.

You display a very primordial
secularism. There are different
skin colors, but
hunger is same.

Satish Verma

Spellbinding

Holding your smile
on the other side of moon
in dark.

The infantile pain
brings the bleeding lips
on fire.

I will not ask
the cuckoo to sing
tonight for the fallen god.

The body art
ignites the roses,
wearing the thorns of charity.

Satish Verma

Of Unknown Roots

Tying loose
threads,
to become sane.

The healing touch was
waning. Only the ruins of
past glory shines in starlight.

Were you a witness
of crucifixion? Or binding on
the stake for the burning?

Like a flower girl you
come to scatter the rose petals
in front of the bride of moon.

Do not go naked
in the vault of pain. You will
show all the bruises of epilogue.

The book remains incomplete.
I have come to meet the prince of
pranks. There was a
mystical touch.

Satish Verma

No Semblance

For the sake of fidelity―
a kiss, which was not.
On the lips of a flame
you burn for whole life.

You know, what you did
not supposed to.
You will forget the
unforgettable, the first
cobra grace.

The blue stigma, was
still alive in green scars.

The shadows walked
on ice, when you stood under
the full moon for an other encounter.

Satish Verma

Futility

The snow mounds
have started gliding―
on the rocks like
mute swans.

I was collecting
the landmarks of my failures.
From jade to jade
and wins.

Plucking the fear
to remain alive in the
ruins of wingless dreams.

I cannot catch your
face now, in my words.
The grey hounds of dementia
would not wait.

Satish Verma

Life's Pilgrimage

Tears locked, I
resume my journey,
moving away from
an iceberg.

Ethical stones were
erected in pristine memories.

The animal gods sleep,
until the drums awaken them.
Black cohosh will not
shut the buttercups.

You tremble like
X-ray. A magnetic effect
brings us together. Creamy pink
magnolias laugh.

Did I hurt you? I
will ask again. The weather
was fine, when you landed
between the words.

I will bring the groundwater
of deep crevices for you.

Satish Verma

Confessional

Rusted maple leaves
fallen on ice, from the
disgraced trees.
Spread like tiny palms of
sweet children―
ready for school.

I have come to teach
myself, the lessons
of nonviolence in moonlight―
washed promises.

Where lies the peanut
wisdom of man, crashed on
the cruel earth?

The refugee cult
grows out of the torn psyche.
So you believe in―
incarnation?

Satish Verma

Barreling Down

Now talking of the snowstorm
you wanted to go deep
in the woods and find out
where the small birds sleep.

It is all white like
the cotton candles, or white heads
of witches sitting in a crowd
to turn you into a tasty morsel.

Who eats whom? The stinging
cold reminds you of the frozen
relationships. You don't want to
recall the warm hugs and kisses.

The fear of dying unclaimed,
haunts. You want to be buried
alive unnoticed, in snowy white
lake of tears and eternal sleep.

It should be less explained,
with a foot note. There was
no gender peace.

Satish Verma

Grey Zones

Turning a prayer wheel
to fire an arrow
towards your heart.

Let the veil slip from
your face― coming near the sun
ridding of the clouds.

Trees also can sing,
if you sit under them.
Was it a human way to
become a stone?

Talking to a candle
in windy night, I will ask―
if ever fever rises, will you
blow off?

Under the lips
some silver was spread.
It shows up only, when
eyes rain.

Satish Verma

Knowing Thyself

Swirling
like flurries, my
thoughts.
I wanted to know,
who were you?

One by one perumbulating,
the scarlet, the yellow subtractive
packs, of perusals, fall like martyrs,
with burst of crackers.

Snow carpets with
streaks of crimson.
Do you know the script
of unknown?

The shrouds!
Who was dispensing them?

Satish Verma

The Serene

You climb to catch the sun.
A blue bird―
breaks from a sleeping
bough, to find
its food.

The bounty of
surrender, after the first
snow of season.
A golden dawn.

Footmarks of
a hungry deer
near my door.

Satish Verma

Chaste Energy

Let it be,
you don't engage in dispute
with me, to make us complete
and whole.

Sharp stings leave
my skin singed. Barehanded
I will fight with a
hollowed tiger.

A dark fear still hangs
on the milked mind. The tunnel
was unlit. You wanted
to become a white god.

The dead wine spills
from the ceramics. With feet
of clay you run very fast
to catch your shadow.

One day you will
walk in, to take revenge
on kismet and blend with me.

Satish Verma

My Penance

Do not want to be
judged by trivia. Only
non-words would appeal me.

The infiniteness.
It has great strength. There
is no ending, no pause.

The ghost house
still haunts me, where I
found the truth and young lies.

The anatomy of
death will exhibit the
red blood. No tears.

And when you live
with memory loss, only
last word will remain on your lips.

The suicidal truth
was always fascinating.

Satish Verma

Unreturning

To the vacant chair
I would talk―
when you are not there.

Watching from an edge
gives a better view
of fall.

You can perceive
a changeable constant
on move.

What would be your
life, after the dried log
helped to decapitate?

Lake view is being
developed, for evening prayers
for the martyrs.

You release the civil
hawks on the name of fore fathers.

Satish Verma

The Bell Tolls

Standing at the edge
of soreness,
stopping by a waning moon.

It was a weird thing.
You forget your name.

I was the game,
you were the hunter.
Half on your lips,
half in my eyes.

A handsome tragedy
will always wait by.

Two randomly scorched
souls, light-years apart
want to meet in twilight
of the gods.

There was reluctance
to stand up to moon,
who had white heart.

I will ask you
to take a final dip.

Satish Verma

Return Of Light

Packed like sardines
your dreams,
break one by one in fine dew.

No great insult―
for the light not asked. The
seeds will burgeon only
in dark.

Igniting up the sky
by your burning
eyes. This was the gift of black thoughts.

A stray bullet
in the crowd of words
silences the body less soul.

Let me touch you
again. Who know when my
sensual fingers drop.

Why you will
speak now? I have gone deaf.

Satish Verma

Tin Words

I wanted to speak out
in hindsight. Details were
of no relevance.

The consensual suicide
had an emasculating effect
on the passion, when―
the moon did not rise.

Privy to a hidden agenda
of age defying wrinkles on fore head.
I ask you, can you read
the dead's face?

You would say I cannot
live any more, like
arthropods you want to burry
in sand, hiding your lies.

You want to talk―
endlessly about getting
nowhere sitting with
giants of sin.

Where was god?

Satish Verma

In Mud House

Let the opus begin
in evening robes. Your hazel
eyes will speak,
will not shame the knifed trust.

Still dazed, I trip
against the mirror. I have always
spoiled me. Following your stars you move
with feline grace in charity
for truth of unknown.

I felt connected to some
invisible spirit in many shades.
The body smells the soul
of strange thoughts, you could't catch.

Under heavy foliage
sleeps the sun. I go for
your trembling hands.
A grueling travail begins
to find you.

You become a magical
crystal ball. I can see through you.
Twin loaves cry.

Satish Verma

Hatemongers

Waging a war
for peace. Rage of
silence abates.

The heart of a flame
has an earthiness. It will
bear a smokeless slight.

There was a terror
link. You could not handle
the trick.

Come to the fore now
and place the honesty,
on the back burner.

I will not speak
between life and death
going from light to dark.

I was the shadow,
and I was the moon.

Satish Verma

When You Pretend

You should stop
telling me, that you don't
deserve me.

Come hither
to pay back my anguished
calls. Sky was becoming red.

No Mayday would
be needed. I will not undulate,
will not play with needles.

Between the palm
leaves a death blows
chopping off the hands of artisans.

It was futile to collect
the forget-me-nots. No
angel was ready to come out of bed.

It was a religion
to squeeze the tears,
before you stoop to conquer.

Satish Verma

Was It True?

You will not
nudge the war within.
I was waiting by your side.

Obliquely you stare
at me. We were
sitting at the sharp edge
farthest away from retreat.

Must not, you stop.
I will speak slowly. In nothingness
there was some existence.

This was not the end
of journey. Certainty was visible.
It had become bright star.
Glittering, but not coming near.

Pure white, like milk
disturbing my stance in dark. You were
shining in your ignorance.

Oh god, I don't
believe you. You won't come
when I open the door.

Satish Verma

Be The Vanity

Walking in shadows
with bated breath to find
the sun. Your forehead was telling
my destiny.

Gradually I was moving
away from the shores,
towards deep sea―
to discover myself.

In blue space―
you will meet an
unborn suitor in forgotten
pain.

When you think solemnly
you look innocently―
beautiful like a larkspur
in naked moon.

In hushed silence I
propose the diamond kill.

Satish Verma

Sleepless Nights

Wanted a trial run to
become a beast for one day
in this Vanity Fair.

The glass house
starts quirking. How much
you were safe behind
this transparency?

Immediate vicinity
generates the foul odour, deactivating
your gaunt senses.

You don't reach
your home in fog. Your mind
will not calculate the distance.

The in security becomes
violent. You kill the
moose without hands.

Satish Verma

Dream Hunters

I will not mime
for the sake of belonging.

Moon albino, gives
a piercing cry. Why did you
look like solar eclipse?

When you intend to borrow
love, in parenthesis, I will
go mad.

Light filters from
the chips of your armor.
Essence was nearly invisible.

An insane encounter,
took place once. A red tailed parrot
landed on the pretty pomes.

A face lost in crowd,
floats again in my poems.

Don't you open the blank
pages, where your name
was watermarked.

Satish Verma

In Yellow Moon

The fear of losing the game
looms large.
It were you, I wanted
to win.

For a gender neutral
god, you will need a wooden
high priest to invoke
the eternal peace.

More likely it was a moist
patch to relieve the
ache and blue pains
of deadly sting.

The paragon cedes
and suffers dragging the truth
and duplicate becomes
an icon.

You shake hands
with arrogant time and
return to songbirds.

Satish Verma

Snow Flurries

You start crying
about the lost meaning
of the red lily, sitting
on a tender stem―
waiting for the kiss of moon.

It will never speak of the
bluebells and daffodils,
hyacinths and tulips.

Fleur-de-lis.
Lily white, I always
adored your downy arms
arching to lift a X

Noises in the head
have risen again. You will
need the deadly nightshade
with drooping purple flowers.

Or you drink the potion
of hemlock and become
Socrates.

Satish Verma

Goldilocks

Take me home now,
I am tired.

It was not physical.
Too perfect for connecting
with stars.

Can be most revealing.
Time to make an exit to become
paranormal?

Dust falls
from the moon's feet.
What will be future now?

Thou shall not
fail. There was no clear
path to truth to reach me.

Unless you live
in glory, you will
not remain an angel.

Loving yourself in extreme
beyond recognition!

Satish Verma

Rich Pathos

Not smiling back
to moon, I will say tonight
after impacted by a
dark cloud.

The naked script without
the staples becomes
a big powerful thing.

Do you agree to scientia
of bare minimum faith?
It had turned into a troubleshooter.

Both true and false,
without empathy remain
disloyal to pain.

This was insignia
of love, between conflict
and understanding.

A winner stoops
to pick up the coin from dirt,
which was tossed by holocaust.

Satish Verma

Under The Smoke

Sometimes I keep mum.
Not to show my grief.
The blank stares will tell
the color of death veil.

Let me explain the evolution
of the hidden insanity.
Every person at one time goes
crazy. About the metaphors
and stings.

The vicissitude of the moods
is apparent between the rose
and thorns. There was always a bleed.
It sucks, if you don't write
a verse.

As simple as it is. You
stop thinking. Will not hate
the blue skin, the blue blood―
blue eyes. Over the time
everything becomes white.

Satish Verma

I Will Not Forego

Walk like me
on burning coals.
You will taste a moon.

A misty link
of inner planet, flaunts
the projectile, going straight
for the sun.

So you believe in
incredible rebirth of darkness
after full moon?

No standoff of this kind
will continue, if the
nightingale returns unveiled.

Infantile ache
spurs again the honeysuckle.
It was red sky after
the sunset.

Pray not crunch
with muffled scream.
There was a rose without thorns.

Satish Verma

White Snakes

A retrograde flow
of subtlety. The
letters have gone out of shape.

Can you read the
fog, when night stalls
the moon?

How do I express
my agony, this huge precipice
of denials?

Love your enemy
was not my cake. A
tender no was enough to subtract.

Suddenly you start
flirting with yourself. After all
you melt in the picture
of fall.


Satish Verma

In November

It was a subtle shock.
I will meet you before
the sun sets.
Smiles have come up for sale.

The failed aphorism.
You were always afraid
of an anvil.

Hot iron was not red. You cannot multiply.
There was no trauma.
I will ask for my blue stars.

The hooded threat
was evident. You were not
ready to face the stroke.

With bare hands I will
dig out my key. Your kindness
was enough to open the lock.

Life brings out the
intense eyes of cobra, ready
to charge.

Satish Verma

Drunk Like Black Stones

Drop the million
stars. Don't you go high
in the air. Sky will
do some scandals.

And there was a deeper
meaning. Can you read
between the lines drawn on
the forehead of a blank face?
A sad man's dilemma?

You know what I don't
know. It was upon me to
prove the guilt of mirror. Overnight
it was raining on roses.

So simple but enigmatic.
So many buddhas for many
questions. I will move inwardly
to find you in the jungle of bluebells.

History repeats.
I fall in your autumn.

Satish Verma