ARTS

Why the jasmine was
now becoming sensual?
Drummer was dead.

The blackbird comes
again to sing bluesy.
Clouds on moon?

Economy of love?
Will you bargain the
delta for stone?

Satish Verma

DECEPTION

I am giving you up
for a delusion-
of being watched all the time.
The retrieval of a poem
must start now.

A mannequin was defiled at dawn.
The puppets on a string
were dancing whole night-
for a born loser.
A lemon without an escort
has become a tree.

A living corpse, after
the acid attack. Give me some
water to wet the lips. I am
going to confess all the
sins of a weak man.

Let there be a face-off
between a river and a bridge.

Satish Verma

IMAGES RHYMED

This was
a catastrophic state.
I had started
questioning myself.

The scientia implodes.
You swallow the pill
and become fluid.

A clock stops
I would be angry,
if the hands don't catch
the numbers.

Ancient pain.
You open the door
and light disappears.

I will draw
your face on sand
and then kill
the wind.

Satish Verma

RITE OF PASSAGE

There was insurgency-
in white night.
Moon will stay to witness

the murder
of a golden leaf.
What was the promise of a ripe
language? The yellow thrust?
Keeping a date with death was not all important.

There were
lots of poems to be underlined,
preened and straightened. The dirt had
accumulated. A metaphor
will remove the stains.

Any confession will
take away the mystry. Who killed
the nothing?

Unrelenting
the apples were crashing.

Satish Verma

MOST WANTED

Meet a gender bender.
There was a precocious
revolt.

A cryptogamic kinship.
Someone writhes
ecstatically.

A god writes a hymn
on the chest of
a new born baby.

Beyond the origins
lies a marbled tale.
You have reached nowhere.

Inflammable was
the blue birthmark.
There was an arrival.

Satish Verma

PSYCHE

The prescience
plays a bellwether role
on the path of light.

Come and share
with me the moment of truth:
victory of unknown.

You say truism
will fail one day in
fire and smoke.

Satish Verma

NESTLING

Words are mine.
Otherness will prevail.
I will call you.

Faraway in dark
I will wake up in arms
of a feeling.

A little yellow-
bird has made her home
in the glass window.

Satish Verma