Carbon Copy

What I don't see, I
see. I will go where I don't reach.
The human failing shines.

Where are you, my
partner in jail ? The rattler of moons.
Why do fever rise in the dead body?

The stars don't sleep
laying the dews on your eyes. You
know the pain looks back at the torturer.

Satish Verma

Litany For None

Can you wash the words?
They have become very dirty. My
encounter with thorns was enlightening.

Do you think your navel
is still connected with your silent
ancestors? Take out your knife to kill time.

I know you were crying
all night. There was no opened door
to find the moon in dark eyes.

Satish Verma

How To Speak Unspeaking

Answering a question
of life and truth, we come near the
absurdity. A third eye opens

Wearing the dark skin
in esoteric clairvoyance the moon
becomes a king of metaphors.

Love steals away the
poem. There was no complete story.
by accident. The pain lays bare the moonlight.

Satish Verma

No Poison Between Us

Can you read my poem
written for you O blind wizard?
Why did my voice not reach you?

It is not mental, You
give light in my eyes. I will give you
my eyes. Why vendetta between lovers?

I will sever off my
thumb one day I will not write
a ballad for you. I am not a slave of words.

Satish Verma

The Dark Session

It was not philanthropy.
I am interrupted daily. Surreal emotion
takes over. Trying to synchronize.

Man to man to become
human, inhaling pain, drinking moon-
light. Fever is coming down.

Pungent smell. I think
to do something. Clay ripens very
fast. Not responsible for killing light.

Satish Verma

What Was to Come?

Be- what you want to be.
asking for fairness. Your thoughts don't
reach me in the dark. In day burial time comes.

How do you know
the arrival of the unknown was
coming soon? Destiny insists to know the end?

Who will be my escort to
stitch the shadows of broken dreams?
I need to know the power of your love.

Satish Verma

Sonic Dark

Moon like a white panther,
waits in the dark when I was condemned
to live more in the crowd of predators.

Brutal smell of crocus
makes me insane. The fireflies are
unleashed to pick the sparks of love.

You re-imagine a dream.
who was spoiling the sun to burn
the forest where fawns live without violence?

Satish Verma