28 February, 2019

Supernatural

You were dressed up
to burn. Tears had memory
pure as gold.

The ache of standing
in flames of tongue, to wash
the hands and underbelly.

Where would you
find the green words ready
to weave the silk?

that was my poverty
to mine the glass and mercury.
There was no inside,
no outside.

Give me the fever
as hot as moon, when you
harvest the sun beams.

Satish Verma

Greek Tragedy

Where blue meets the
red, I will bring moon to cross
you river of tears.

Thousand suns away
the pygmy god sleeps in thatched
hut, to feel the pain.

When you swim in my
eyes, I become an ocean
to drown the deity.

Satish Verma

27 February, 2019

Defining Equation

Returning to past
you tend to remain all mum,
murmuring nothing.

Measuring speed
of light coming from my eyes
without spilling dark.

What burns up, ejects
the sparks on your shroud
of three parting words.


Satish Verma

Sacred Steps

Retrieve me, by my
voice, to stay at the pause
between wounded words.

Unopened scar
beams from the moon to heal
the breached faith.

You know, lips always
remember the kiss of sun
in raging snow.

Satish Verma

26 February, 2019

The Ascetic Grieves

Why Buddha waits for
Yasodhra, to become sane
and atone a sin.

The time was catching
up. Like someone plucks a
narcissus for prayer.

Pink and white, the
cherry blossom in your eyes
cracks the asphalt.

Satish Verma

Trekking

In blue dawn
pure truth will hinge on the
personal moons.

I was ready to tell
you all rumors to learn the
art of mimicry.

The air smells of the
masks. Not fakes. Skin dries
up to dew emboss prints.

Satish Verma

25 February, 2019

Form And Muscles

You talk of evil,
I become incendiary.
The name had power.

Unthinkable. You
fight the lurid details of
chopping off fingers.

How would you write
the opus of human slip
for seeking royalty?

Satish Verma

Embittered

Mauled, with no
known crime. Autumn wanted
to take revenge.

God's will, not the brown
eye's dilemma, to suck the
venom of moon.

How long the struggle
will continue to understand
the color of blood?

Satish Verma

24 February, 2019

End Of Suffering

Snow and Sparks. Methane
burns. I will scramble for the
moon in dark woods.

The desires leave
the scars in dreams. I walk in
sleep to touch you.

Where the world was
going? You dismember the
frog's limbs. No rapes.

Satish Verma

Recreation

Like sphinx I put up
before you, three questions.
What was in a name?

A bane? Deceptive
image of a sin? Don't
give me everblooms.

You give brief
answers. I should know them. I
am setting you free.

Satish Verma

23 February, 2019

Repeat Dilemma

A secret poem for
you, to forget myself lost on the
noiseless sea.

Of words. Reclining
Buddha in dilemma, to
wake, not to wake.

I was on voyage
to find the bliss of salt
in starvation.

Satish Verma

Impeccable

How do I carry the
moon, wherever I go to search
you between the clouds.

Gradually, thoughts
become homeless. Can't catch
the wheezing flies.

Blaming self, the trunk
dies inside. No sap will
rise. No glue will roll.

Satish Verma

22 February, 2019

Small Pains

I want you to call
me, when my shirt was stainless
and sun was rising.

The monarch lands on
my book to read the verse―
meant for the moon.

The empty mind spins.
Script was totally burnt-out in
my voicelessness.

Satish Verma

Whom To Sing

The first stitch
of the poem. Painless words.
There was no song.

The lull before the
blast. Buddha bends to pick up
the tangerines.

Deep orange-red
sun rises to name the sin.
There was no saint.

Satish Verma

21 February, 2019

Sorting Again

Love blooms in hush,
like cranberry. It heals soul,
half moon, half stings.

Gives you wisdom
to singe without flames
in month October.

Woe was done for,
when the snow comes in
to cover the scars.

Satish Verma

Not Any Acrimony

At dusk, I will smear
your lips to color the moons.
Acts like Midas touch.

The dunes tend to
shift from the shivering hands,
when the knuckles bend.

The scope expands.
You will walk on periphery.
I will tow the line.

Satish Verma

20 February, 2019

Ruminating

The fire thoughts rise,
when the stinging stubble burns
on your green face.

It doesn't smell, the
forked tongue. Taste was
sweet on the skin.

A crimson twilight
narrates the glory of sun,
inviting the moon.

Satish Verma

Under The Bodhi Tree

Would you remove
your mask once, and come to
me as you are?

Don't throw the pebbles
to skin my pain. The wound bleeds,
to quote the past.

I ask myself to
be quiet in this moon time.
Saint was turning red.

Satish Verma

19 February, 2019

What You Didn't Say

When Rilke stops
whispering, I search
the cut flowers of gladioluses.

You don't speak
at all, blinking your eyes
anxiously. There was no
spate of quivering lips.

The exodus of long
breaths had the lethality.
Words come and go like,
a bunch of bees.

My problem was,
how to meet my beautiful
end.

The culture, the
wisdom would wait for
the angels.

Satish Verma

A Paroxysm

Something was left behind.

I was collecting all the
dried roses for the prison of
eyes. I ask myself― what was that.

Something was left behind.

A black rose? Near the
smoked candles of poems? A
tiger lily, still had the blood spots?
Why do I forget the precious things?

Something was left behind.

I wait for the butterfly,
to wake, which had breathed
last between the tender
moments. Why do I want?

Something was to be left behind!

Satish Verma

18 February, 2019

Water's Face

Space versus time.
You blend in my singularily
I will meet my other self
in the black hole.

Counting my heartbeats
I will cleave to you, but I find
that only my shadow―
walks with me.

With minimal touch of
love. I discover the asset of
stupidity. Like feeble thoughts would
swap for stinging tentacles.

A bizarre equation appears.
The fearsome becomes a jelly
fish. I am trying to give
a name to quarks.

Satish Verma

Strange Pictures

Don't read;
feel the words. They weep
in full moon.

The hills were
moving. Trees wouldn't
wear the dresses.

I was not ready
for autumn. Can you come
back after the death
of hope?

The stalkers
stand in queue
to harness the dark energy.

The frills were
beautiful. Face was missing.

Satish Verma

17 February, 2019

Don't Kill The Moonlight

Dying inch by inch
to catch you between the poems
before night ends.

Life changes words
without sounds and vowels.
You will not find truth.

Create a wound
for me to print image
of fall from honeycomb.

Satish Verma

Fear Of Losing Someone

Your memory returns
to listen to waterfall
and watch sunset.

Body speaks to soul,
interpreting eternity.
Something doesn't die.

Whom to call in dark
when you blow-off the lantern?
Hail the arrow man?


Satish Verma

16 February, 2019

Reaching the end of
life, are you ready to listen
when I don't speak?

The charisma of
gods was wavering, you will
smear the poles red.

Step by step moon
climbs down, the blue lake, for
last rites of blaze.

Satish Verma

Glinting

Ready to barter my
last wish with your tulips
glowing in eyes.

I didn't ask for
any help to decipher my
blue dream of edge.

Two little words may
be sufficient to
resuscitate charm.

Satish Verma

15 February, 2019

Meditating Again

Adoration short of
consonants, was a sin
of little gods.

My silent prayers
beseeched you again, like
humming raindrops.

Kiss my bodiless
sleep in sad poems, when
the scars of words start
moaning.

Not to wake pain,
I held your hand for
eternity to write my epic.

I fumble, I forget.
The days I don't fall
in love with thorns.

Satish Verma

Ignorance?

Who was honest to
toes, to take a flight
like a legend?

Hearing the voices
in head, you appeared as
a gift in dark.

Was there any code
of silence, in feeling a
guilt of smiling
when hurt?

I was talking of
basic pain, like a jasmine
to cuddle when touched
by a moonbeam.

Satish Verma

14 February, 2019

Opening A Wound

Lunatic will
not go for adultery, like
a river which doesn't come
face to face with ocean.

Ink of genuine
poetry spills on the wings
of a dying butterfly that spreads―
out without bleeding.

The poet has nothing else
to say. It was a spirtitual
fault. Man tries to overrun
the god.

The raging viper, likes
the soul, to negate the thoughts
towards anonymity to read
the age of sun.

Satish Verma

Strange Rivalry

Your lips start
quivering, when I touch your
intimate aura.

My defence was
always neat, not to be
misled in half-light.

Why do we suffer
in the hands of the unknown,
when we know the ending?

Satish Verma

12 February, 2019

Unmasking

You own your breath,
talking to dust adrift.
Earth was dark and cool.
Heaven was hot bright.

Velvety black
night falls on the flowers
coming to see moon, like
in passive surrender.

A cloud sits on the
eyes. You were in haste.
There is no beginning, no end.
Salt water was panacea.

Death never comes
alone to carry the old
bags. Names were grafted in
the brown leaves.

Satish Verma

I Am Not One

This saga follows
the stargazing of one
buried ethos.

Where the words stop
to transcreate the ruins of
hymnic heritage.

You cannot change
the world. World will change you
at the end of gaze.

Satish Verma

11 February, 2019

Honor On Sale

Coming of age
in dark waters of thoughts―
to swipe the moon.

Half-bread was
not sufficient for the earth.
We need some sky.

Words don't come
easy, from the scythe, to draw
a line on face.

Satish Verma

Half-Blues

Don't bury my pain
in your sad blinking eyes.
It won't fill the void.

Who was evolved
from a cruel beast into
a human being?

Some pieces of
divinity survive in the
bright passion flowers.

Satish Verma

10 February, 2019

Earthly Claims

The lunacy of
touching you, to plug a―
hole, in your innocence.

I wanted to explore
the horizon in your eyes,
where sun meets moon,
in graveyard of sins
and virtues.

Before you had become
my shadow, I used to smell
a distant scent coming
from a slithering
wet body.

I fumble for the words
for mercy of pain. My desert
was once a sea.

Satish Verma

A Beautiful Song

To begin again,
the travesty of understanding
life.

A mole, a warton
the face of fractured psyche,
I will never know you.

Generations bleed,
to feed the corpse flower―
of fraternity. I go
insane.

Going beyond the
touch of your life, I begin
to shred my forbidden
sin.

You know what
was classic love, to burn
like a moth on flame.

Satish Verma

09 February, 2019

Hope In Undoing

Stay till end of
my poem, for
dying sun.

Howling winds searched
my body, my soul
when I stood alone.

The blue scorpion knows
its religion. That was predation.
Landfall for hungry.

If the blood leaks,
the victim sings for moksha.
Milking starts.

The golden leaves
are peeled off from the moon.
No night was safe.

Satish Verma

Living With Grace

Didn't agree to
sell the dream, for afterlife.
There was dread of
crossing the graves.

Moon intends to
come one step closer, to
find your candor. The innards
wouldn't take off the veil.

There was no iconic
shadow. Hope was fading.
Time to confront the unexpected
assault. Light enters from a crack.

What could be a
second coming of realization
on week legs, in twilight
of disturbing truths?

I am holding the mirror
at a distance.

Satish Verma

08 February, 2019

Ancient Landscape

Weeping asokas were talking.
Only THE Plato will tell
the truth about republic.

I was shaken like
dew drops on grass in whirlwind.
No end of unending.

Moon goes on rampage.
When will you meet me in charisma
of midnight September?

Mankind will not
change. The stones roll down
to remain afloat in river.

Take off your hand
from my shoulder. You have
to go for a long journey
without me.

Satish Verma

With No Anger

Truth survived between us.
You were my anthem―
in dying light.

Like a crucible, the
absent moon, fills it with a poem.
Maybe you will find the signs.

That the illusion
transcends the truth, and
becomes blue.

Who will be born―
again in the ambit of
slavery and deliverance?

Ah, the tragedy
of life was, to give
away the honey to insectivores.

Satish Verma

07 February, 2019

Like Hurricane

How would you retrieve
the soul of moon? There was
not enough darkness.

Long back, the ink
was always black, and
the words would tremble
like aspen.

The echo comes
loudly resounding the green
valley's anguish.

Don't hit me,
by a vivid farewell. Buried
one's head in poems
somebody walks through you.

The wound had been― still raw.
A panther jumps on the antelope.

Satish Verma

In Full Moon

Cuddling instinct.
Was that important to
hug a bear?

Standing like a
candlestick, you want to
touch the blue sky.

What emotions do―
you need to beat the
unbroken kisses?

Something crashes
inside, like bone china
to mimic the brutal
fall.

Be some tender―
to me, I am carrying
a burning glass.

Satish Verma

06 February, 2019

Incredible

I was hungry
and you fed the tiger
back and forth.

And then a fierce
battle commenced between
lie and truth.

In temple of eyes
deities were disappearing.

There was no signs
of large fig tree, under which
you can sit to become wise.

Satish Verma

Revelation In Dark

You begin and end
in sameness. The trust will
veer you back home.

I won't teach you
to define dignity of
salt in brown eyes.

I knew, the bridge
was going to collapse
one day on water.

Satish Verma

05 February, 2019

Microevolution

Kissing under the
mistletoe. Moon puckers
wearing a hijab.

The creed tumbles,
for vast and open space,
to remove zeros.

Treat me as I was.
The shadow falls on lake
when time freezes.

Satish Verma

Drunk Like A Bee

My charm lies. You
will not come in this poem
without toes.

An amputee runs
on blades to wipe out
tears of colossus.

How do you know, the
karma always walks bare
foot in dry river?

Satish Verma

04 February, 2019

Unwritten Affair

This was eerie
in blue seizures. Half-mother
was ready to defend.

The sun, spins the hot
ash overnight. The waste land
will never answer.

You wake and lose
the rare event of alchemy.
Gold turns to base metal.

Satish Verma

Sleep On Stones

Words of violence,
violence of words. From where
these letters come?

The duplicity of
message unfolds the snaky
chess play of destiny.

Dreams, they will fly
away like sparrowS in a
troupe of actors.

Satish Verma

03 February, 2019

Strange Encounters

Will go sepia, if
you are black. No shipwreck was
visible after.

Let colosseum
break in, under the glass ceiling.
Come September.

The end dance begins.
There was no cracks in the
moon, lips waiting.

Satish Verma

Any Ambiguity?

Between us was
left a prelude. I open
the ruined book.

Why there was other
pain in eyes. Differentia?
Of unknown feel?

A creeper climbs,
your small window of psyche.
Jets ethereal spray.

Satish Verma

02 February, 2019

Think Again

Is it sacrilege?
Half-men were becoming―
predators? Insects?

That transcends the
sounds of agitated earth.
You don't bend to kiss.

A perverted sense―
prevails. Listen to rustling
of darkened night.

Satish Verma

Passage Of Pain

You had failed me―
god, when angst was burning
my fingers to write.

A poem. Mauve-blue
lips go into a seizure,
to fight the demons.

Delphinium's spur
trembles without any wind. An
angel has fallen.

Satish Verma

01 February, 2019

Sell The Mocking Birds

Mysterious weather.
You cannot breath in rose
garden. Time crawls.

You cannot smile.
The raid on cuckoo's nest was
disastrous. No eggs.

You can see through
walls. Undressing was a ritual
to shed all the norms.

Satish Verma

No Epilogue

The flame springs to
burn my hand. Blood drips drop
by drop from a hole.

I am signing red.
Inertia sits in the veins.
Do not know any god.

End and beginning
have become one. I will
calculate sins.

Satish Verma