Truth Speaks Lies

I was in trouble, learning
Ars Poetica. I am writing for the beach
where the moon meets the lake.

You would not say, but
be. It is very difficult to write with your
blood on the paper of love.

Not quite a suicide, it was
sacrificing your head, severing with your
own sword, for the mistakes of god.

Satish Verma

Reticence

On the way I was
happy to meet green valley. Your eyes
were sparkling. Words had no meaning.

Who was wounded by
flowers, I ask. Standing under the
cherry blossom, waiting for honey bees.

You are lingering now, in
shying shade, Why love in autumn
morning proposed, let"s do it?

Satish Verma

Difficult To Read The Epic

When fear comes home,
what will I do? A mutant love opens
the door to escort the pain.

A lynx sits on the sill
of the window. My grief marries the blue
mystery of eyes in dead man.

The stones were changing
the colors. Light treks the song of the panheart
of a lover roaming on the moon.

Satish Verma

Sitting On Rainbow

Cannot find you in rain
to talk together. Someone lights the bonfire.
I want to punish myself.

Catching fireflies in the bush.
The hayfever ejects out the bloody words,
putting on hold the meaning.

Absurdity wins. There are
no readouts of true god's version. Now
everyone becomes a god in every lane.

Satish Verma

The City Will Not Sleep

I see you in my arms
when you bloom like the hawthorn,
mayflower after making it to the peak.

You exist because the moon
exists. The tyrant of time will not die
easily. Solitude prints a saga.

A mystic romance flourishes.
The moonlight comes on tiptoes
to kiss the sleeping deity out of the temple.

Satish Verma

After Makeup

While turning the page
I write nothing on blank paper. Invisible
small footprints of tears can be touched.

I print you with nails
on the trail and divide the hope into words.
I love what you were singing.

Inhuman pain occurs
at departure for time being. You say
why the end does not come in meditation.

Satish Verma

You Were Married To Me

Was it a coexistence?
The black holes were merging. Holy
charm. Gods were not worthy.

Unrooted. Land was
hungry. How can you weigh love of the bonfires?
My age was betraying. Yet I stand.

If the sky falls, don’t you
drop the jaws. You enchant me with
abbreviations. You can speak with your mouth shut.

Satish Verma

This Wound Was Not Mine

You forget to remember,
you were spinning very fast. The
sun was becoming black.

In moon-rise ritual the-
attitude slumps. It was difficult
to catch the fireflies.

You have a terrible mind.
Your mirror does not reflect. It
bribes the light not to come near.

Satish Verma

Eading Gita

I need you to fight my
war with celestial bodies after the broken
galaxy. Want to formulate a jump on pyre.

Of romance and violence.
I have started understanding the unknown-
to heal the humanist injuries.

It was a queer feeling.
Why are we alike? A miscellania of the
same wounds appear on our hands.

Satish Verma

I Drink Hemlock Every Day

Longing, you carry the water
in cupped hands. A candle wants
to drink the tenderness.

My loss has become a
big asset. I am empty hands now
There is no burden of sins.

Will you count your fingers.
They were always crooked like question-
marks for which I have no answer.

Satish Verma

In Cross Fire

Again somewhere the light
breaks. Darkness rules. The walls were
coming down. Tracing a blood bath.

I had let you go from
dismembered memories, investigating
the remains in the ashes.

The virtual pyre still throws the
flames. Nobody comes back. Only the pains
of burning wood. It will not speak.

Satish Verma

Amnesia Recovers

What is it? The philosophy
of breakup? The chair starts moving.
Hanging gardens say nothing.

Moon hides the face. Who
does not want to live. Surreal poems
Talk to myself. Cut the hand.

Bleeding won't stop. Eyes
blink. There was history in my pain.
Love and Rosie still engage.

Satish Verma

An Epoch Turns Blind

Grammarly it hurts.
The pale eyes suck. I clap and kill
the smile. Someone knocks at the door.

Stage was empty. Not
finding any movement. The seminudes
don't want to display cuts and bruises.

Vertigo. My gloves hang.
Wearing a mask, takes away the vibes.
Words sleep on lips. I become dumb.

Satish Verma

Like Casabianca

Studying the life at random I met,
naked believers. A narcissist catches
crescendo. I step in to confess my fault.

What was the truth?
The dreams have become impersonal.
I was busy creating mythic metaphors.

The night birds dispense
the autography to define self in dark.
Light will not fall on blinking eyes.

Satish Verma

Savagery Starts

Groundbreaking. You
were running from yourself. God was
trying to prove his innocence.

My fever rises in winter.
Snow refuses to melt. Blood in veins
wants to come out to prove murder.

Agenda Is revised. Small
things fail humanity. The water cries
in chains Cannot come down from clouds.

Satish Verma

You Can See

Alienation begins in myself,
tearing the dome of pride and the
extraordinary virgin bridge.

Life takes a revenge with
the rope. You cannot tie the knot.
between nonbleeding wounds and the blade.

In the moment of fall
I was counting the beautiful days
instead of my random poems.

Satish Verma

Have you the heart?

Impossible to love you
without pen. I am trying to know myself
stitching the trembling lips.

Published the skills, O
my god, why the ship was burning. I stretch
my arms to embrace the history.

My grief is being sold.
You laugh heartily, when I made Buddha
sitting under a fig tree to become a stone.

Satish Verma

I Think It Was Twilight

Infidelity, the old man
stumbles. It was wrong to come out of the truth.
The sky became pink. Sun was nowhere.

In abeyance, I become
a god. May not be perfect. Starts
to dawn on me. Was living in death.

or dying in living. Very
difficult to walk straight. Anyone 

wants to die for rebirth?

Satish Verma

Held In Leash

I asked you to be gentle, 

not negating the love. The mythological
legend will start wiping the tears.

You stand without a sword.
The white goddess made for me, though
with pink bones, silvery eyes.

A long tweezer was
interbred with gods. Invaders come 

for a savage rivalry on the planet.

Satish Verma

Who Writes the Cross?

Religion of one word
hides in cul-de- sac of suicide.
A homeless body burns the story.

Pain of immaculate knowledge
calls a quit. Were you loyal? I embrace
a hounded rendezvous of the century.

This was a small poem,
without a celebration of the fall of 

the emperor. You stand as a stranger.

Satish Verma

Do Not Cry For Crucifixion

When words crack, tears
fall. There was an emotional void. You
were breaking yourself.

Renaissance. Did it start
at your door? You step out from yourself,
start throwing your parts to dogs.

Unsung our gods wait
for your arrival near black wall.
You have to write your name.

Satish Verma

How To Depart From The Earth

I stand in a row to
reach nowhere. What was the certainty.
Then why was the mausoleum made?

Up near the burning sky
the sun was closing shop. The stings
were still buried. In flesh of crucified man.

Poems were becoming heavy.
Difficult to understand the muse of 

fallen titan. Do you believe in resurrection?

Satish Verma

Cobra Begins To Morph

The pink stigma gets
baked. Turns my brain into stone.
You were trapped by black widow,

The red color was king.
It breaks my heart to see the kill
by a bald eagle, but the dive was beautiful.

The death was my friend. Will
keep me waiting to complete the cycle of rebirth
then ask me to see the blue goddess.

Satish Verma

Impersonal Faults

If only you could have
known. The naked erasement of our
confessional private beliefs.

I was assassinated
several times, for the smart wordings
of pain, and full stops.

Between masculinity and
someone crying along rose petals 

you will surrender your pride.

Satish Verma

Dying Abundantly

Non-existent violence
succeeds. And I was not happy. You wear
a moon in the dark night.

Who were you in chains?
Immersing yourself in the river of funeral ghat.
I will carry the ash of stars.

Hurting no one. Already
I was not alive in the hour of game,
when comets do not leave footprints.

Satish Verma

Sitting In Fog

Very difficult to go into
the tomb. Full of flowers. Impartially
waiting for the resurrection of truth .

Are you really gone?
I don't see. I don't hear. Something
happened. I would cover the door to bury the pain?

Will you say something?
What was the mystery? Only modicum
will matter? Am I ready for holocaust?

Satish Verma

Deadly Ruins

The dimension of schizo-
phrenia gives birth to a heir. You
cross all phenomenal barriers.

Let me grieve again. You'
were not what you appear to be, wearing
stone mask. Juvenile era ends.

The haze thickens. I
cannot see my hand to point out the
sparkling fire in your eyes.

Satish Verma

Standing Under The Bo Tree

You owe me nothing.
Renegade, my jewels were stolen.
Incredible, the squirrel goes on fast.

Wounded by words, you
were becoming daisy. Magic, magic
to fill in the empty mind.

An unique kiss still haunts.
An anniversary present to stitch the veins. 

No blood moved after the accident.

Satish Verma

Fall Syndrome

It was absence of truth.
The silent pain writes a name in
the invisible book for a monograph.

Draw my old blood.
You want more water. Hydrangeas
are thirsty. Want to drink from your hands.

You ask pure love.
A Sleeveless torso was utterly homeless.
Prayers have gone godfree.

Satish Verma

Hope Was Given Up

Drop the pen and write
with your blood. Put on hold the heiress
of the moon. Glare shows some artifice.

The winter pain brings
false wounds hurled by velvety words
to engage the fake happiness.

Why do you need a mirror
to make the world beautiful by reflection 

of a lake and alligators?

Satish Verma

Greatness of Wall

Stepping out from half-
love You take and give a kiss. The
pain was in bones. You were happy.

What we have given to
history, when the moon was loud and was
moving towards the black hole of life?

How to convert everybody
to defeat the hate, embracing 

ride of legless journey to love.

Satish Verma