23 April, 2017

Evening Prayers

I plant my last kiss
on the wall of mausoleum,
and turn back to face the
inevitable transparency.

Like a birthmark―
you stick to me for an eternity.
Honeyed tongue swaps
a blue. I am not a path,
only a candle in the wind.

Moon-washed your face
swims in my black eyes.
I search my genes
in you, for an answer.

In poetic jargon, with
broken wings, I take a flight
to that horizon, where
my aura ends and your spell begins.

Blameless-you spin,
and break into hundred of shards.
They become stars. I remain
stranded at sunset.


Satish Verma

Grim Reminder

You come like undersea
quake, hitting
the sleeping moon.

No headlines,
no bleeding hearts,
just masochism.

Drinking angst
and spirit, from― a
Venus in exile.

After holy scripts
drifting out
with battle scars.

Satish Verma

22 April, 2017

In Praise Of Unknowing

The unthinkable,
has happened.
I am still alive.

After the harvest
moon, there were―
many aspirants,

to reach the Mars,
when a lynx left the
pug marks on their chests.

First snow went
deep in asylum.
All gates were locked.

Satish Verma

Going For Vendetta

Take me in moonlight
when it is dark, outreaching
every ache.

I will not ask you anything
when you are on prowl in cobra night.

The womb crumbles.
Salamanders will not endure the flames.
Elemental soul wants to
stay in water.

Living in a wax palace
with honeybees inviting sparks.

My religion wants to change its name.

Cold touch, I will wear
a shawl of slaughtered scapegoat.
Don't call me on the name of a
messenger.

You know there was no
dearth of lies.

We shall meet when our hands start trembling.

Satish Verma

21 April, 2017

Sailing Incense

No wintering.
I have come to stay
warm-blooded.

Recreating the
swelled knobs of
loaves.

Excruciating
ordeal, had made
the bones strong.

Now I sit
quietly to hear
the morning bird.

Satish Verma

No Prophet Speaks

You decide first-whom
to blame? As if I am―
on threshold of denial
and anger.

When to kill a polluter,
who was deployed to―
protect the virginity of blue ocean?
The stealth fighter becomes a fake.

They meet like polygamists
exchanging the rings to remain
unfaithful. The untested blood
was a carrier.

On the brink, comes the army
of black ants, waking the lover
in evening light. You should not
stir. Greed will make the sleeper move.

Satish Verma

20 April, 2017

Way Back To Indolence

You nurse the tender pains
to feed your soul. In sunshine
of nothingness, that was falling apart.

And which was not―
the abrupt exit of inconceivable.
Me, still struggling to remain alive in―
thoughts of you.

The vast blankness of mind staggers.
Where the loud music, like tinnitus,
runs slow like crickets
and peacocks, giving a pause.

Then suddenly the crescendo
ups, symphony of loud, beseeching
rumpus, drowns the protest
of songbirds which were giving mating calls.

Listen my love, we are islands
in an ocean. There were no walls.
Only strong waves leave us speechless.


Satish Verma