31 July, 2020

Exited

Tell me exactly, the
real meaning of love!
Don't say it is a flower lei.

It is also not hornet's
breed. Will you take my shelter
one day. Truth was not worthy of it.

Who fathered the Satan?
I ask. I don't recall you
O my god! What happened?

Satish Verma

30 July, 2020

I Need You

You are made anew
everyday. Something is peeled off
from your skin. Sometimes blood is drawn.

It is very hurting to
your pride. You cannot walk nude
in your house to invite god of rains.

The sun burns your
wall of truth. Strange, there was
no one to teach history.

Satish Verma

27 July, 2020

What Else You Should Know

Who am I?
I search my name on your face.
You won't recognize a lost coin.

The cadavers move
and talk. For what we lived
to understand our land.

The rose garden has
young Areca Palms to play
with roses in sun.

Satish Verma

26 July, 2020

Begin With Ending

Your half-surrender was
unique. Going home to find the truth
of end of a beautiful story.

A mid-life pain takes
the memories in lake of fire. The
saga of urgency of moon ends.

Once there was a name
to solve the cognizant problems
of truth. Now prevails the virtual.

Satish Verma

25 July, 2020

Freezing Time

Not understood you well.
Me living in myself. Your eyes will behold
what my naked hands carry.


My truth was also your truth,
in same boat. I cannot recognize
my path in sea. Moons dancing with each other.

Let us wait for night fall.
The lines in your rough hands. What do they tell?
I am collecting palm leaves. Who was coming?

Satish Verma

24 July, 2020

Who Woke Me

What you did not get,
was found at the bottom of sea.
Was it due to dance of swans?

You held me tight,
when the rains stopped.
A moon kissedspot still burns.

An intimate wound of
hard life, was not given by you? Then
who had kissed me in quiet departure?

Satish Verma

23 July, 2020

Little Feet Measuring Earth

You still don't know
how to address the lion standing
in the burning bush.

In my deep cave your
footprints unsettle me. You try to
save the half-written tragedy.

I don't see any violence
to fill my empty hands with new moons
to repeat the undoing of the faith.

Satish Verma