It Matters

When it drips
drop by drop, a burning candle
becomes a poem.

If you knew it,
time would stand still
to meet your integrity.

Come out some night
in moon, to watch the blue
love of lonely trees. The
melted dark becomes a song
of earth.

Tomorrow
you don't want it―
to come and yesterday to go.
If you can freeze this day
I will never ask for a requiem.

O god, will you
forget my name and
let it be a shrine of
unknown traveler.

Satish Verma

You Are Being Watched

Inheriting a non religion,
carrying stones on wings―
you wanted to fly.

In the hot and humid
Land, a cult grows
in one's own squeezed moon,
playing with words.

Stunning the future,
something hardens in veins,
and you prepare for the
battle of peers.


The world was changing,
to make you see, the life on
edge, discovering oneself in inner
space.

And sometime, you will
look at me puzzled.
For the wounded pride
was I paying a heavy price?

Was it easy to understand life?

Satish Verma

What Else I Will Do

I don't want to think.
I think.
Like a python engulfing
more than I can swallow.

A dream must be cracked.
A coconut to release
the white of soul.

Sitting on beach, I watch
the washed up years. The sun
roars, gives a laugh― and
goes down leaving red bruises.

A fireball zooms in―
because I won't leave the dais.

Like a mason bee, my
nest is coming up. I was
talking to ghost of yesteryears.

The fragile bones carry
you for a fat journey.
No one follows you.

Satish Verma

Can You See Me?

The last moments
float on unspilled words.
I will give you a call―
from body to body,
to reach my voice― across the time,
zones and history.

You wouldn't dream me.

I'm not ready to give up. A
moth takes the flight― strikes
a hot teardrop shaped light bulb.
Brick walls hold back the sea.

The rage attacks a black sun?

Why do you think of
vanishing without a cause?
Hairless the moon cries.

Pink peony waits for the
sick gods.

Vocal cords vibrate.
No vowels come out. A naked
speech becomes museum.

Satish Verma

Remote From Sin

In my darkness
you were my hope
in the calamity of
moon's eclipse.

The blinded iris
weeps for the sun, which went
invisible for ages.

Will you carry a cinder
on your palm,
to make a hole―
for looking down at earth?

My planet is dying
under my feet. I will not
take water as my kin.
Sky was my priest.

When you accept the
surrender of infallible,
my life completes the circle.
You turn into a child
to remain human.

Satish Verma

Coming Into Unbeing

Eyeing the pale moon
I will grace the path
of neutrality.

Piercing red
a current pulses through
the vacant eyes.

You always
curl the lips to remain unsaid
about the embrace of fire.

Conversing with
the waterfall, you forget
that you were standing on edge.

Invisible undercurrents
have a ritual. They appear like
glazed cleavers when there
is no crowd of thoughts.

Like indigo child you
extend the purple hands
to heal the bruised ego.

Satish Verma

The Volcano Erupts

It was unique in many ways
once you had asked,
how would I like to go.

Like sitting on the edge
of a birdbath, after celebrating
summer flight, the sparrow
wants to drop dead in water.

Sometimes you want
to watch your own wake
between hundreds of earthen lamps.

The ending cannot
be translated. You don't own your life,
your freedom. If you
see me as your liberator.
I will bring my own shackles.

Dignity never
comes in black and white
I will wait for you under the shade
of a holy tree.

Satish Verma

A Strange Phenomenon

When the lone night sleeps
I wake up the moon
for a monologue.

You listen with unblinking eyes
and hear by shivering skin.
Constancy remains alert.

You wanted me to define―
the time. Will that change with
our age, unknown to bystanders?

You were not yourself
in my presence, becoming a lost
child in trance, struck by a magic spell.

There was no physical passage.
Timelessly you would stare at me
to enter my thoughts.

Like a blue butterfly, I will
fly in the room to kiss you, and
bring back the feel of merge.
After a long pause we would part,
taking the scented dream
of our interrupted moments.

Satish Verma

You Were Everywhere

Hanging from the crescent
moon, you want to script
your own fall.

Intrigue was important
for thinking big, like
a colossal waste.

A swan lowers
its legs for the moonwalk
on the red lake.

Cracks appear, when
you want a mood-lifter to
live in a triangle.

An apparition, takes
the charge of perceiving
a bloodbath without killing.

The bigotry lives
for ever, under the tutelage
of sacred gurus.

Satish Verma

Being Mortal

Oh stranger,
was I making you taller
than me, when lightning struck
both of us?

It was raw and basic
my trust in you. You couldn't
wait for my call to pursue the truth.

The light breaks
into nuts and bolts hitting
the open faith. World brings the marigolds.

Like a castway
god lies bleeding in the street.
Your agonized voice calls for the
blood siblings.

Who to spell, ararchy
of man's descent? I am scared
to find the hidden burials.

You bend down to
collect the dirt falling from bare feet.

Satish Verma

Catching Myself

Defining yourself,
I wanted to know, how long
you can remain honest―
to yourself.

The craft of harvesting
will not stand the acid test.
What do you see when
there is good sunset?

Still combustible
a cinder gives off flames
inside you and inner silence
becomes bold.

In between the sentences,
the pause betrays the balance.
You cannot decipher―
the code of sacrifice.

The road sleeps.
Coming to peace with not
reaching at horizon,
when sky was drinking the lake.

Satish Verma

Learn From The Pain

You were a one-sided
coin, like grief
of the dour moon―
righting the wrong.

Maybe I was not able
to recall your beautiful face.
O, Miranda send your
smiles some time, as the
tempest was reading for a fall.

A salt mountain
will break to teach you fidelity.
You may run, may not run.
One day nemesis will come
to ask your name.

On trampled leaves of time
a huge pachyderm roams,
to find its master.

I will wait in my half-cave.

Satish Verma

In Black Lights

The day wears me out,
when I don't think
of you, and a poem was not written.

A quasi-sin to forget,
connecting with past to find
the solution of gated exits.

Soon you will enter,
the mythological world
and I would feel a grim threat.

I filtered light plays
a game with me, like a sword
of moon slicing the darkness to
spit out the stars.

The terror holds
you tightly, will not let you go
back to drown your baby thoughts.

And when the explosion
takes place, only the muse will survive
to tell the tale of unique love.

Satish Verma

All Prophets Fall Down

There were some ashes
in your eyes, when
you kissed a flame with
containment.

A golden phoenix
swoops down to snatch away
your signature.

Henceforth the sky will
wear the skullcap of moon,
before touching the blue lake
of silent eyes.

Why do we fight
for our insignias? The saber
dance must continue in
the morning of our doom.

The phantoms come again.
Why you were in dilemma―
to surrender or not?

After all you were my gems.

Satish Verma

An Electric Affair

The calling deepens at
night, when it is pitch-dark
and I go in abyss.

Unknowable my angst,
keeps me restless to blunt my
hyperaesthesia, which wants to
drink moonlight.

Clumsy with my pen,
I write and rewrite a message
which will not reach you.

You have the same faith,
as that of the sleeping bo tree for the
god of void and blankness.

Tell me, what is a classical
fall of animated suspension.
You leapfrog for the bird catchers.

I plead guilty.

Satish Verma

Silvereyes

Breaking the silence
you speak in velvety tone.
The hunter has been hunted.

I return your pride
in the hands of monolithic world.
There were other globes
beyond the sun, past
the vocabulary.

When thoughts become a
song, peace comes back and you
can see the distance
between the stars.

Evading the nuances, white
stones manipulate the commerce
of truth. I remain empty handed
to understand the meaning
of shade.

I will bring a canvas
for you. We will paint together a
serene lake!

Satish Verma

Inventory Of Missed Beats

Under a perfect moon. I
missed you at dawn in,
rain dance, when stars
were going to hide.

Beyond midnight, you
were not supposed to stay
in my dreams.

Oh, was it the time
to drink from the falling
dew? Can I blend the nature
with your eyes?

The days were trecherous.
You were not going
to curve like a rainbow.
It was a good old art of swaying.

When you run short of
appropriate words to describe
the dilemma, you start
counting the folds in the currain.

Satish Verma

Unbitten By Time

After going back in my
frame, I let the dark set in,
to wait for your moon.

No more, or less, you had
plucked my image to wear it. There was
no litany, no contrast.

And a prayer makes
the cherry tree bloom, and
start shedding like my poems.

It can save us, at the
foot of mountain, when rains
come, and we are climbing.

The shadows will meet at
horizon, drowning in water
of moon― to morph into a vault.

The creativity had been at the best.

Satish Verma

Talking Through Veils

You were born with
a golden tongue.
When I shut my eyes,
I hear a Beethoven.

In a back vision,
the future tricks. You
become older to me.

Author of beauty, will write
a new chapter, revising the old
script― when ink is scarce in soft tears.

Can you mix the color of doomsday
with a rising moon, sitting
on a blind eagle?

There was always
a tussle between fire and sea.
When the ship was burning, brine
dried up.

Where now, we will grow
out lilies, if sky doesn't cry.

Satish Verma

No More Halts

To end an impasse,
I had placed a yellow rose
on your lips.

Where the world ends, my
poem starts to seal the bond.

A flock of birds flies― to reconnect
the warring factions of blue winds.
And the chemistry of river,
sings in between the two.

The green rattlesnake, falls from
the moon, stops the enmity. You are
not afraid, not nervous.

The hummers are in vogue,
flying backward. I will bring
the caped jasmine to celebrate
the truce.

You are now astute
beautiful inside. The bell
will not toll today.

Satish Verma

Open The Doors

I picked you up
after the fall, when moon
was burning.

Why did you call me
from the clouds?
Rain drenched, there was the
smell of earth soaked
guilt.

You didn't want to
share your secret of the
glorious war with me.

The call of peaks
was very strong. A crack in
Antarctica spells doom.
I watch the damaging of future
with grief.

Suddenly a fawn stops at
my glass door, like a light yellowish
color of dawn, gives me a
strange look.

Will we stand up again?

Satish Verma

Spitting Images

Unreciting a mantra, I will
go in unhearing mode,
for a drink of moon tea.

This is how the life
treats you, when you want
to leave the crowd.

And then stalking
starts. I will find the moon
always following me in sea of fins.

Like a caged bird
you were afraid―
of wheels and not wheelbarrows.

I will not stay not float.
The space must come to me
to expand, to grow the wings.

Rubbing my nails
on stones to sharpen them,
to etch your profile for the clay mould.

Satish Verma

Cool Embers

There was nothing to hide
in house of fire.

In a singed ocean
a dew drop wants to live in peace.
I welcome the pouring bliss
from the gale.

In the raw, tormented
questions a paperboat sinks.
You float the earthen lamps
on glacier.

Why do you respect the
dazzle of mirrors? They don't
accept the gratitude. Give
you back your fakes.

Can your think sane and
beautiful? It has stirred a hornet's nest
which was not ugly?

Everyone wants to wear
a full face mask.

Satish Verma

Unknowingly

You forget to give me the warning.

After the kiss of
smoky clouds, I was
waiting for the moonrise.

And the rain would
drench me as you did it to me.

I will give more and get less
telling nothing.

It was only a thought,
once now a phrase, that
you are afraid to accept.

In summer, somewhere nightingale
waits for the call.

In a slice of moment, I stumble
then crash.
You become the song of the day.

Satish Verma

With Moon And Sunlight

One text to another,
you take a refuge, from
the commitment―
to save the god.

This was a wonderful art.
The kiss of Naja, to
taste the venom, finding the
ultimate truth.

Else you drink hemlock,
make your throat blue to
protect the man from misery of life.

Something, massive is hurled at
you, and breaks you in million
of shards. To remain alive
was the element of accident.

You perceive what you
cannot achieve. Sitting at the threshold
you watch the world go by.

Who was the Pied Piper?

Satish Verma

Rocks Understand

I need your touch,
not physical. Spread your wings
and come in my dreams.

You know hills
were crying. The sun has
not fondled the planet today.

Like poison ivy, it gives
you an itch, to break the
orbit and tear away your silk.

Yes deathness was important.
Does everything comes to
an end, unannounced?

The rocks sometimes
start moving to find their home.

Your brown eyes
still chase me to cross
the wet boundaries of pain.

A chunk of a star can decide.

Satish Verma

Migratory Songs

You will never know
how a poem wakes you.

When the moon goes to sleep,
like real, but cute, your
swallows hold the space
between the breasts, feeding
on words in flight.

Be fed with divinity.
The beauty lies in mute love.

The birth of pain
brings you back home.
You create your own brick world.

Like red rain, you
collect the sparks, floating
in brisk air. Something was going
for self-immolation, like an unholy
thought inside me.

I will ask you
to pull down the sky.

Satish Verma

Behind Windshields

Moving towards the east,
to meet the rising sun.
In wet eyes, I was receiving
your image, losing myself.

The pink doors of
deep cave, touch the flames
of yellow moon. I was surprised.
The night waits to depart.

It has rained all night,
at the pathless hurts. In sync
with the swaying of crab apple trees,
I unfurl my pains.

A milk shade spreads
between us, without breaking
the firmness of earth, where
we stand without looking at each other.

I stitch the undone
poem to bring you back, in
cottonwood arms, ready to fly away.

Satish Verma

On Cobbled Trail

Save some volatility
for me. I have broken
my wings.

Unwilling to act against me,
because it will hurt you.
I was unable to show you
my hidden lake.

I wanted to tell you,
but will not, remaining upset
to find the moon tonight.

Go ahead Buddha, I
would dream of you praying
earnestly. Don't give me my destiny―
I would stop running.

Your curved eyes now
invite the clouds to take over
the moonscape.

Satish Verma

Hunting A Prodigy

An open truth beguiles
the instinct, the bare facts.
Something precious will remain
under wraps.

I was not ready to give voice
to the delicate subject. There was
no dwelling, no niche for a
virgin lie.

The soul was an essence of body,
psyche or inner self of
ageless― sexless being.

Give me your palm. I will
read your lines. You will strangle
the illicit terms. The tiger
always battles to win.

Predation was not in
blood, then who was the
prime suspect?

Ask, your deities, who created us equal.

Satish Verma

Touching Depths

Celebrating life,
untaming the vampires.

With yellow, green fingers
you pick up the fallen fruit,
to take a bite,
without any ceremony.

I will not take any name
without you.

The Eden burns. You still do
not know what is good and what
was evil.

Looking into my eyes, you
stop batting. The vampires
were roaming around.

The sea was red as if all
the suns had taken plunge in water.

I am still alone
counting my slips.

Satish Verma

Standing Under The Magnolia

You need to know,
one shouldn't draw
the arcade of night.
When light goes down, I will
wake on the moon.

You choke on
jubilating the silent voices
playing with fire.

Our planet was
breaking. I am waiting
for something to arrive
to salvage the unmutilated morals.

When I pluck the words
from your lips, you start crying
for the lost meanings.

My fingers writhe,
and curl, to shape the question marks.
From where the screams
were coming?

I never got the response.

Satish Verma

Learning From Each Other

Sometimes, unwittingly―
I want to take you
to beginning― not to lose
you again―by unwriting.

Like a drop of ocean
waiting for the sun to quench
the thirst of night.

The quencher wants
to taste the salt of the
eternal wounds jutting out of the earth.

One day I will tear
you off like fresco from the
wall of memory and place it
in the pages of my book.

I will not seek any
apology from you, for not
bringing any flame.

You brought the ashes of
the bo tree.

Satish Verma

Beforehand

On the blue veins
going to waking sleep.
It has its own city.

Like big cherry picks,
when your presence purred in my chest.

The bare fangs,
approach slowly.

It crumples your hormones
that was not a small dying.

The pulse runs fast,
even faster than light. Still
you wait in penumbra.

All that you did was
raising the eyebrows, to
ask, who were you.

No introspection was needed
to clean the color of smiles.


Satish Verma

Measuring The Scales

Was it a lunar effect,
I ask the fading light?
And my future invaded the magenta moon.

The saddest lips will
not tell the violence of uncluttered
words, that had wounded the heart.

I wanted to forget, my
foes, my friends― who framed
the charges against the mind bending quality
of my poems.

And here you stand
unsteadly in my vision, to fall
or not to fall in my trembling arms.

There were no beds
in the sea of daffodils. Either
you sit on the beach, counting the waves
or go very deep at the bottom.

Tell the watchman to
open the door of whispers.

Satish Verma

My Candle Burns All Night

Like dogwood flowers
I spread my palms, for
you to read the fate of sun.

Nothing else I would
need to complete my logarithm.
I had always failed in numbers.

Lines don't play the
game. Dots are winning the
horse race.

The hounds know
the art of killing. I was
not ready to undress the gods.

Can you surrogate
the death of a wasp, who
flew not to bite the innocent?

The point was not clear.
Nobody understands the geometry.

Satish Verma

A Moth Speaks

Fragile calm almost
breaks the silent voice
of dead glow warm
felled by full moon.
There was nothing left
to write about darkness.

Sometimes I don't
understand you in vacant
looks. Weightless you
fly away.

Golden dew drops fall briefly
on hot iron, steamed and
misunderstood.

You are the lust listener
living in wax house. I will not light
the candles for fear of
burning the nest.

The deaf cuckoo
goes on singing with out hearing
his voice.

Satish Verma

A Bird Song

Come, sit beside me
holding my hand.
We will look at the moon.

Bathed in milk,
our life has signed a bond
to become history.

You will not follow―
the stoned eyes. Vision comes
in darkness, in stillness of voices.

The city sinks in creek.
Invaders had snatched the pen
from the empty hands, of lost truth.

All I need, was to
sleep beneath your eyes,
to wash the guilt of dreams, about
the falling snow on your lips.

And you were praying
with your invisible body.

Satish Verma

The Mist Between The Eyes

When the stonecutter
becomes genderless, I will ask―
who was the master of sky,
as sun goes down to sleep
behind the hill.

Deep and strange, beginning
always held the charm. You don't
want to age.

No oblique answer will satisfy
the sorrow of centuries.
Why the man was still wandering?

I touch you in full moon,
when it hangs on the tree,
and you shiver like a yellow moth.

Maple and sea don't learn
from history. The ache of bending
to shed the past for forgetting
the future. There was none to walk with.

Satish Verma

We The Faithfull

Blue moon of white night, wants―
to bring down the sky
in a spiritual bliss.

Talking of reincarnation,
I am skinned alive, like
a cadaver, talking ceaselessly.
You are burning sans fire.

In absence of god, you
become a god father
to a beautiful progeny.

Leave aside the lineage.
On the horizion, a flock
of swans was returning
home to spread the watercolors.

The recluse comes out from the oblivion
to greet the inevitable.


Satish Verma

Embracing My Words

Let me go into long pause.
I want to dig my consciousness.

How many intimates
you need to share the hyphenated
half-bloods of air born myths?

Surrounded by lacerations
I go dim, and then I invoke
you to come and sit beside me
to look straight into my eyes.

Days are ripening and months blending.
We listen to the unheard calls.
Can you see through me
to find the depth of my blues?

Wind hides the replies. You
go unhinged, suspended in
sun, waiting for the sunflowers to
bloom after the dark.

I often forget myself and become you.

Satish Verma

Death Of An Angel

Death, be merciful.
A part of me was broken
and became a star.

An angel had touched me.
He has gone back to his home.
Why am I trying to resuscitate his cloak?

O my light, you lived
in me. I had kissed you in my darkness.
In troubled times, you
just disappeared to leave,
your voice, purity of face
in my heart for eternity.

But the wait will continue
for you. The fall―
crisp falling of thoughts. Longing
to feel you.
Longing to feel you, on my bruises
like the dew on grass.
A-complaining?
No, nothing. It is the unopened
eye of a wound.

Satish Verma

In Starry Dusk

Reflection of your
profile in veiled threat
appears solemnly. I
come down as a hawk to
make my kill.

Lines on forehead were
etched very deep. More possessive,
I wanted every inch―
of your space.

Juxtaposed, I bring
my ghost writing art to surface
to understand your drawing power.

Clouds were creeping
towards the moon. Would not be able
to decide for once, who had―
the irresistible charm. I was
freaking out.

My life had been a reverse print.
The watcher had become
the watched. You were the victor
I was the game.

Satish Verma

Rapturous

Honey,
You had licked off―
all the salt of my being,
and knowing less of you
was becoming a bliss.

The absence
reconstructs the fragrance,
coming from nowhere―
transforming the feel of
unknown grace.

Sitting near a sickle
moon, watching
the full ascent of
quenchless desire.

It was a dark mound
of upheaval from which
the unslept angel would fall.

You may pick up
the glory of dawn.

Satish Verma

Talking To Me

The feel of killing
will not go, till you think-
the time was over,
Under the flared up moon.

The interface shrinks.
Light blends with dark.
An abbreviated space becomes
water and you sink in a jar.
The skin turns into
veil and you hide into the
soul.Somewhere a voiceless
command hauls you up.
What was the purpose
of trembling fear of
unknown fall, when you
were standing at the edge of a pink?
I was learning from you,
the alphabet of birth and
dying.The eternity will not listen
to any defence.

Satish Verma

In Prosaic

Your lump grows in your
throat. You cannot speak or sing.
Any reincarnation would be futile.

Late winter was never as harsh
like this. You need to grow thick hairs.
The bearded smile betrays the hatred
towards the tulips. Why they were so
beautiful? Appearing before the
summer sets in?

A paranoid controls the fate of
humanity. In dust lie the dreams
of unborn. God's fidelity was at
stake. Faith was breeding
the cults.

Where do you go from here?
How will you nurse the pubescent
buds? If I become a rose, will
you kiss me?

In angst I turn to you.
How do I untangle the ennui?

Satish Verma

Sweet Stillness

In the wilderness
of snowfall, a hungry
raccoon will leave his footmarks.

I listen to the soundless
music of flurries,
flying like white moths
in blue light.

It is not dawn. Yet I
can see the outlines of
boats at the feet of―
lake moon.

You can walk now
amidst the frozen
thoughts.

Satish Verma

I Hear You Crying

Now we will talk of daintiness
in dark, while the white
snow blushes with―
the glow of a kiss.

The scented moon will
touch the invisible, so
the imprisoned voices
would release.

Do you hear the unheard
song of a wounded bird?
A feeling of going no where
stops.

Satish Verma

Sun-Baked

Into my arms,
your shadow to speak―
for light. Mischievous intrusion. I
belonged to eternal darkness, discovering
beautiful jewels.

The black vault hides a
truth of earth. You will be born
again as a nymph. A rainbow cow
jumps on the moon to browse tender,
high growing grass of ancient faith.

There was a preview, of things
not happened so far. Talking of
preludes was easier. I always
touched you by my deep exhales.
You sucked in the pious thoughts.

You fed me the consciousness
of rare genre. I become a god river
of iced peaks.

Satish Verma

Penitence

Fragrant honeysuckle
in silence of emptiness,
at sunset, seeks moths.

Like wildfire, you
spread, in the autumn night.
Deep and hat I burn.

Satish Verma

Old Instincts

My laces would break
whenever I will tying my
shoes. Why, O man why?

Stand in wilderness
of last year and walk in the
honeytrap of new year.

Satish Verma

I Will Wake In The Dark

Shutting down the
windows, and let them
weep in rains.

A silver moon was
feet away, pleading
to be called innocent.

Something was left
after the sundown.
Where do we meet after
the journey's end?

Again my eyes
were wet after your
serene silence.

The call of the lake
was very strong.
I move, then stop
and look back.

Satish Verma

Looking Around

A furry mother squirrel
brings her small one
on my deck to teach
how to crack the nuts.

I will not utter a―
single word.
The fall of snow is very dense.

Satish Verma

Are You Somebody?

Autumn pains.
How life treats you
when snow comes?

The mountain path.
Will you climb with me
to meet the unknown?

Satish Verma