ZEITGEIST

The auspicious death
in moonless night.
Anxiety meets the ultimate.

What was left now
to cultivate the kiss
of unknown. Everything

has been spread on the bed.
The knife, the heart and
the parting lips.

The purity was at stake.
Spiteful and maligned, you
tear off the tender drape.

The black silence
descends in the gash of the
memory. A white marble bleeds.

Satish Verma

STUBBORNNESS

It was spirit of the time.
The lethal trade of─
missiles, someone was sending free.

You collect the cachet
of bleak weather. The
roses were in bloom.

Trying to conceive the
buttercups in the blue─
frame of melancholia.

I err, and find myself
in sleep after the contact.
A genetic gratitude overwhelms.

You catch the stings
blindly. The other sin will
take care of itself in blood.

Satish Verma

DESCENDING PEACE

After a hard day
a game-changing starts,
igniting the night.

You are buried
in stitches. The wounds
are devoid of blood.

Will you split the─
silence along the words?
There was no awareness now.

A persona
becomes a revolution. The streets
are painted red.

The monument
drifts. You wash the landscape
with moonlight.

Satish Verma

Getting Nowhere

That was a pioneer,
lunatic moon,
and me an unwilling partner.

The panther leaps again.
I suffer from
stab to stab.

The giver, sucks,
in genocide.Adoration
becomes a scourge.

One malingerer
leads to another.
The healer was very sick.

My master was a fake
The book was empty
and the print was gone.

Satish Verma

LIPREADING

Overdriving
the silence in zero light,
flickers of sickle moon were
fading.

There was a conflict between
reason and
conscience. My father was
smiling.

Where was the gold, he asked
walking with his wooden─
stick in jungle of tears?
I kept the door ajar.

A smoke engulfs my eyes.
Before he died, he took
a promise from me.
I would not be visible.

Satish Verma

Blackened Seeds

A hot body
was a hymn to the night.

I will drink
the moonlight.

In December─
a poem? Words freeze

in full bloom. The
corona becomes blue.

A rose bud breached.
Beast was out.

Satish Verma

HUMBLING

I love you in poverty of
words;
when you are not seeking
anything.

A dusky strength, self-
deprecating,
holding forth the virtues of
self-denial.

What was the awareness of
a blind?
Of shadows of migrating birds
in moonlight?

Hold my extended arm. May
be you can fall,
looking without eyes in the depth
of the sea.

Satish Verma