Satish Verma Poems

You shut to it―
the window, on watching
a row of walking stones
without feet.
...

Your algorithm
has failed.
There were colossal mistakes.
...

Would you bear the cost
of peace, if there was
no war, no country, no
personal gods?
...

You were not choosing
the right words, being reticent
for a seasoned yes.
...

I open the book
too stoned
to read my name.
...

You never forget
the fat preemie.
A perfect revenge of the curse―
at ungiving.
...

You collapsed―
on the stairs in frenzy
falling into a debt trap.
The moon was asking back his pain.
...

You tie a
sacred thread to
the hollow tree.
...

Almost reached.
Your tongue slips;
Then you fall.
...

Do not count.
Do not return my poems―
written for you,
in memory of hot pink
...