Satish Verma Poems

Who were the derivatives
of hate? When the
counting began, your name
was not there.
...

Human tragedies would
walk in, to cross the sounds
of lower world.
...

I will go as I had
come, and then plunge
into void― betraying myself.
...

I was not ready
to see the footprints of your
blood in my new poem.
...

Half waking in red
moon, to seek revenge of
fallen grace of sun.
...

A philosopher
of ruins, watches the moon
and starts laughing.
...

The flame singed
the absolute reality.
Every spark connects.
...

The gnarled fingers
will retrieve the flowing
moon from the river.
...

Pink hollyhocks will
drape silky cloaks in sun,
to be caressed.
...

The kiss of the wasp
still burns on
my lips. I will ask
the love, what was your age?
...