Satish Verma Poems

Something impossible would happen.
Truth was too much to operate,
life was easy with fakes.
...

For a desolatory trident
I was feeding my anger.
I could not do it, sell
myself for punitive lenses of my calculus.
...

Tonight sleep was not coming to me.
Tears had washed the splinters out of the bruised eyes.
It was becoming extremely hard to pulversize
the legacy, the tendrils of violence.
...

Standing on a hump,
a chilled remorselessness
of a shadow trauma climbs out of a sealed
grotto of infinity
...

A missile in the home,
what they have done?
You are on flames.
...

Wrigglers dripped again
from hidden heights. The red river changed
its course furiously. The wave climbers
abseiled from a lethal boat
...

He did not want anything
after the sex and death of a protagonist.
Rebuffed and sliced through the body,
the onus was left on toxic mix.
...

In search of peace
the free hand was inflicting casualities.
The kids were buried like insects in a rubble.
...

Tell me about the bluetoothed man,
of his stark naked truth, in toe
for a brief pause. The toll was mounting.
The tallest fraud of chilling facts. The city of
...

This overwhelming emptiness:
something to present allegorical, figuratively,
which is not here. Vultures were coming back.
A stimulating dialogue must start
...