Blue Blood Moon

Looking at the blue moon
to become deeply sad,
to be true or not to
be true to oneself.

You were always at
a distance, untouched,
unkissed. I was very
reticent to tell about my odyssey.

How not to understand
myself, remaining
voiced in my verses to reach
obsessively at apotheosis.

And then to fall at
inviting earth as dust
meeting the dust, reaching
my abandoned home.

Satish Verma

Commentary On Last Wishes

The snakeskin smiles.
Shoes hurt, when
somebody gives away mercy.

Fidelity has come
for sale. You want to listen
Beethoven only.

The questions were mine. You
had no answers.

I never want to talk
about truth, as if everyone knows
it. I write poetry.

Did you jump into a
dry pool to know
the depth of sky.

Do you think
that was a right thing
to become a saint.

Satish Verma

Alone In Crowd

Being my other soul
would you go for―
a saddest kiss with a gold fish?

Nothing else matters.
Weaving blue flesh on
starched bones.

What else you need,
when the moon cries outside
the broken window?

And the sands and
palms and cacti had the
guts to take in trifecta.

And the blood
to remember the affinity
with the unknown.

Satish Verma

Cloning

I dream a nightmare
of anti-moon, when
the smile leaves your face
and you become a phosphorescent
butterfly in dark.

A flight of bluebirds
makes a last circle, and
lands on the mound of bones
as a shrine of paranoid of
waist down paresis.

No one was perfect.
No savior will appear.
Anniversaries come and go,
The Homo sapiens look back to identify
their progenitors.

Have the mercy. O
god, it was too late to
strike at the womb.

Satish Verma

In Frozen Time

Left in the den of
wolves, the half-brother
becomes human.

You start learning
from yourself.

A vampire, an
alien, fossilized eggs,
the house booms.

On your hand,
O empress I had left
my legacy to face the sea
of tears.

Love in the madhouse
flourished. Moon wept for
the lost of silver coin.

The falling morals
grieve. Money was changing
hands in dark.

Satish Verma

Misted

One thought we would
share, but won't talk.
A round moon offers
the childhood innocence.

Did you touch
my hand to transmit
a galaxy of bright
revelation?

The blood moon was
once hacked to death,
when you refused
to kiss the burning candle
of epiphanic moment.

A superembrace
sets you free from the
shackles of commitment
to become earthly shadow.

Untouched I cannot find
the title of incomplete life.

Satish Verma

Telling The Truth

Enduring,
the walk in flames.
I keep mum.

The rabid activism―
to remain untrue,
to myself, protecting my other self.

The reason becomes
my anger, without a trace
of fear. I would submit.

How can you explain
the justice, of taking revenge
on yourself? Life must move.

Spying on my
tears, the prize winner moon
starts burning during eclipse.

Death comes tomorrow
on the day of nemesis.
I will walk out from the ashes.

Satish Verma

To Be Sincere

Being a witness
to blue moon, you wanted
to meet the black death
of sun, when there was
neither dark, nor light.

From the painful
encounters to frozen tears
I want to rewrite my story.

You will not cry
if I hold the pen. It
is sharper than the sword, when
the words bleed.

I will wear your
eye's color. Someone dies
between the lines. Life
has become very touchy.

You love a
dream beyond the thoughts.
I fill in the frame. Neither acceptance,
nor denials.

Satish Verma

Timeless

And death shall
not walk in the street,
on the shoulders
of dead dreams.

It was not a
mythical slip, when visuals
had no mirrors, no ink.
When I go into rage
flames will rise from the sea.

You will not count
the burning rings. History
repeats the rule of blood.
Skin alters the frontiers.

The insane love
demands your toes, so
you would not walk away
from the periphery of blue hills.

Satish Verma

How To Do Prophesying?

In grim moments,
quivering with fear,
separating the tears
from buried eyes.

How will you break up
your life from the
stanzaic epic?

The painting remains
incomplete. You don't want
to touch the colors.

Like snowflakes
I am creating a design
of your thoughts.

Sirius will not
rise today over the hill.
It was a rainy night.

There were dark
clouds, even at doors.

Satish Verma

To Understand Myself

I do not ask you.
The trembling flawless
kiss lands at the
lips of moon.

The prize was
not honored, returned
to the donor of death.

Without words
the abstract settles for
clues to take an
elliptical path.

The genius will
bring, down your lids
to see your bleeding feet
leaving the footprints.

There was no regret
to make myself fair
to undo the night's
womb.

Satish Verma

Hypocrisy

Listen to wind.
Silence was tied to
the stake, before burned
alive. I wanted to know
the truth.

Home lies, growing
louder in the din of impeachment.

Stand at the breach
of love and ask the blind irises.

For thousand of years
you have confessed for
the dark omens.

Did you find the pure
Agni?

Walk with me to
look at the moon.
It was in flames.

Satish Verma

Mutiny By Words

You come to me
when transparency enables
you to paint your
knuckles blue.

War was on!

Peeling the tangerines
with delicate fingers, in
winter sun to recite
the poems together.

Why you will not sleep
till the snake bites?

Thinking of this brute life.
Nipping in the sharp nails,
wolverine sitting beside
the bonfire.

Calling, a lie a lie,
I am going to punish myself.

No ruinous effect
of soft kisses
without lips.

Satish Verma

Exploring The Bonds

Like a lifeless child,
clasped around the breast,
moon was coming up
in the sky with fastened cloud.

A frozen embryo―
has become a supernova.
The democracy makes
everybody poor.

Slithering, your face
becomes a mask, to hide
the bruises of
mangled truths.

The vision takes a
new turn to liberate the
psyche from the trap
between our eyes, where
the sun sets.

Satish Verma

I Become Black

Playing with cinders
I will reach your home
to absorb light.

Give me a talisman
to win your heart―
to save the moons.

Mars becomes the poorest
god. You won't reach
there to erase the red doubts.

The visitor stumbles.
There was no path.
I wanted to hold your hand
for eternity.

Why to murder the
god's messengers?
Was not every star a guardian
of your beliefs?

Satish Verma

Negotiating With Fear

Like a shadow
you were always
with me to meet the
biblical terror.

Hugging the function
of whole-being, I drive you
to do a crazy triangle
interpreting the universe.

The metaphors
were changing daily to
describe the unethical
slaughter of hymns.

I will not pray
to live in this circus.

The little pain grows.
Writing poems for you
calculating the risk
of becoming an angel.

Satish Verma

Perfect Imperfect

Flowers―
They follow you, whenever
you sleep in dark.

The bluebirds
will wait till you open
your diary showing the exotic surrender.

I am collecting
dewdrops to wash your face
with sacred hands.

Don't fly again
over the seas, when sun
settles down on waves.

Whole body
shivers, before spilling
elixir to save you.

Satish Verma

Conceived In Tears

Almost touched
the birthmark of lips
on my poems.

Will not want
for it to happen, when
the sun breaks into stars
in your amaranthus eyes.

Syllable by
syllable, you weave
the inferno to burn
the sins of voodoo.

No one was
traitor when grass
dries up under the feet of
glaring moon.

Ah! this was
a Vedic punishment. I
want to learn the
early form of revenge.

Satish Verma

In Fog

Cannot see through,
when you
take different avtars.

Deeply quiet, I want
to be defeated
in your hands,
like a small Buddha.

Who walks in my poems
when the god fails?

When the blueprint
appears on the moon, I empty
my glass of Aconite.
The snake sleeps for
my self-esteem.

Here and there,
I find you in every rhyme.
After the dawn
whispers would die.

Satish Verma

Liquid Pain

The becoming,
before your sudden
surge of emotions
to finish the half written
message.

That was,
when the words were
getting wings.

Artificial vision?
I cannot look beyond
the exodermis.

A sizzling search
for the Venus
in wraps.

Who is going to
announce the fall of the system?

A hangman
does not need the
weeping tree to finish the job.

Satish Verma

Personal Loss

Root sounds.
I prefer intimate pathos.
Not easy.

I don't live
in night.

Yellow words
on green thoughts.

The fall was
imminent.
I wait for the snow
to bury my past.

Love becomes fluid
I was never dead.

Satish Verma

Corrosion

Some things left unsaid.
I will know you by tremors.
But will stand very still.

You need a space to
feel my lips in silent dark.
Birch had debt to pay.

There was no choice to
break from the past of Rafflesia,
you call corpse flower.

Satish Verma

Glass Barriers

A clear sky to sit
under the stars, in your gaze
to find missing moon.

Keep it to yourself
what I gave you in the shell,
a pearl, dream and ash.

Landscape was haunting.
The truth gives a loud call,
like a big flying owl.

Satish Verma

Given Dark

Not afraid of any
jinx, hearing strange voices in
brain and very loud screams.

Comes rolling down, the
fear stops, of fire of seeds
still unborn in pods.

You pick up the words
in trance and start prophesying
of bare wounds of dawn.

Satish Verma

It Was Like That

Want to entertain
like a zany in the space when
it is bright moonlight.

The craze was to win
your smile in the drifting snow of
earth for dying flames.

And you cry for small
things which make the weary life
simple and beautiful.

Satish Verma

Oblique Vision

City of ashes and
burns, I try to place my home
after the mudslide.

It was a great show.
You ape the rain coat, enter the
cloud to fight the fog.

Cocoons will not burst.
No pain of deliverance.
Butterflies drop wings.

Satish Verma

Against The Winds

Impatient, was green
snake in grass, I watch the sun
ready to give a chance.

In dark winter I
will dig out the sad poem from
your burning eyes.

Not soliciting
from any god I will build
my own sky, my script.

Satish Verma

Heart-Wrenching

Cruelest thing would be―
you are being watched all life
as from the sky in dark.

Trembling, you open
the knots of entangled life,
to watch the baby sun.

When you try to find
yourself in the lies of society
where will truth will go?

Satish Verma

Parting Day

Encored, I was ready
to get the gift of stones.
Light dims at the door.

Will stand, thinking. To
look back for the lost baggage.
Will see you again?

There were smudges
on the floor where the candle melts
making hole in palm.

Satish Verma

What You Are?

In a shroud of mist,
the fullness of thoughts shivers.
Don't give me any quiz.

Inpoisoned angst,
I climb a tree of inquiry.
There were no answers.

You come prudently on
toes to catch the ripples of
the transient questions.

Satish Verma

Strange Behavior

Polis intercepts
the palace, grieving on the
body of an old horse.

You don't appear of
this world, with your invisible
wings of majenta flames.

Listen now soundlessly
I drink hawthorn daily for the
sake of unborn poems.

Satish Verma

Concepts

Your intent was to
peel off the frozen poem from
my lips to taste it.

Planting a seed daily
on my palm to start a blaze
for burning the book.

Look how I brace you
to move the steps one by one
to reach on my Sun day.

Satish Verma

Dark Ruins

Those pomegranates.
What a weird thought, you want to
see it alive, dead being.


Like salt in extra―
cellular fluid floating in
veins of nemesis.

The relationship
between life and death demands
the absence of a kiss.

Satish Verma

Dust Always Knows

I don't want to hear,
what you say, now unsayable,
flaunting golden ring.

Another sun and
another moon. What was this
soft December pain?

The smoking gun in
the trembling light of candle tells
a different tale.

Satish Verma

To Understand

Perception changes
on face. There was no gender
in it. Moon smiles.

A grating laugh. You
will turn head to observe a
tree crashing on moon.

Disarming you with
words unspoken. Irises
move on trajectories.

Satish Verma

Broken By Waves

Why withering look,
and I will ask the sundew
to snub tentacles.

Noiselessly you step
in my sleep and sit on brows
to count rolling tears.

The wind will start crying
touching the tender buds
you placed on snow.

Satish Verma

Waking One Day

My poem will sleep on―
bewildering at the
honey trap of moon.

A motherless cloud was
reluctant to undo the
kiss on parched lips.

I say, would you be
real thing like the holy earth
ready to surrender?

Satish Verma

That Is Not What Is.

Tell me why were you
hanging out with golden dust
in molten raw pain?

In secular grief,
I pray you to play the flute
like a reed in mud.

I will rise like the
possessed phoenix from the
burning city of reins.

Satish Verma

Becoming Whole

I don't ask. Will go
fighting. The maverick plays
a game of blue hearts.

Not galloping love.
A subdued undercurrent
flows in brown eyes.

Shadow at moonlight
clings to my feet, not to meet
the Karma this night.

Satish Verma

Forgotten Mantra

The lake was calling.
I will go untelling every one
conch shell on the beach.

Morning star moves
away from the stranger, who
brought the silent pain.

A stigma, an ache and
tears, embrace moon sitting,
on weeping Ashoka.

Satish Verma

The Trauma Stuns

Leaving the page blank
for you to paint a brick wall
between you and me.

It worries me of
the return of suicidal thoughts,
when the tide comes.

The dust of hoofs
will bring peace to barn. A lost
buck has come back.

Satish Verma

What Atrocities?

Embracing the lust,
going for the absurdities,
my words will suffer.

What would you do,
if sun may be lying to me?
Moon was crying silently.

A big hole in neck.
Still I was breathing in dark
O god, now it will rain.

Satish Verma

With-Beingness

The stings wither, I
was walking on burning coals.
From temple deity was gone.

After defeat― the
skinned poems, will amble in dried
lake of brown eyes.

Teardrops had made
the grass green. A shrine doesn't
come up for the moon.

Satish Verma

Changing World

A marble conceives
the geraniums to revive beauty
of rise from garbage.

It happens with mud-
slide. Not very sensuous but
your humor goes down.

Even beasts behave
when they are level hungry.
They know what to eat.

Satish Verma

Abstracts

Immaculate fall.
I will take the opiate
for a stark profile.

Violated with
stones, concept of reason
dies in space and time.

In sharp pain you need
an Aconite to unroll
rose petals on mound.

Satish Verma

Transcendence

Light was aging. The
burden of moon, I want to
carry in my short poems.

A window shuts, holds
back the voices of requiem
for the departed sun.

How many black holes
humans need to bury ancient
lies of cults and faiths?

Satish Verma

Kiss Me Again

Sitting on the legs
of swastika, a moon jumps
on the wailing earth.

The fire in eyes of
passion flower was ready
for crucifixion.

The snow on your lips
stays still, for the portrait of a
fall without autumn.

Satish Verma

Basic Schooling

Look into my eyes.
I was changing every day
to read your genes.

For supertruth of
isness invalley of sparks,
when peaks glint of gold.

Like a black hole
eating watercolors of
dragged, setting sun.

Satish Verma

Caved In

Between dead and live
god sleeps in the golden crib
to rename unborn.

In a recurring
triangle of deities, will you
ask burning questions?

Why do you ascend in
violence of words, when I gave
you gift to come back?

Satish Verma

Essence

I am trying not to
think loud, analyse, undress scars.
Tremors will answer.

Not understood well.
Will write charity of giving
blood to unborn poems.

Sounds and dust have
no names. I bounce back
to claim my right to unspeak.

Satish Verma

Conclusion

Standing alone in
dying light, to find darkness of
sun crying in bushes.

You were not me in
shipwreck. The sea wos rising,
Will call doorkeeper.

Truth was not the need.
Will collect messages of
sad, ravaged moon.

Satish Verma

Sailing Too Far

The priest drops the child
and will go celibate.
Time to wear a cloak.

Red clover weeps in
the veil. The moon will not stay
in the waning dark.

Will I face the sun,
when you don't stand by the―
river to save the boat?

Satish Verma

Discerning

After descent was
a puerile attempt to save
the virgin's blues.

Blind faith kills one-all.
You bow down to touch feet of
semiclad idols.

Your half-grief to sell
the portrait of insane god
will go waste today.

Satish Verma

The Imperfect Poem

Cannot finish a
poem without you in the moon.
Bystander named you.

I want you to take
back your words. The replica
of grief will not last.

In dark the fish comes
out of water to kiss stones
of the temple for bliss.

Satish Verma