Satish Verma Poems

I cannot hear you
in my absence―
for a transient heartache.
...

The virgin moon
and young lover―
talking in hushed tones.
...

When you would not be there
where I was, my fingers will twist
like questionmarks
not getting any answer.
...

Not reading your eyes
today, walking on
burning cinders.
...

The whipped up temper
for a mass destruction―
of thoughts. A squeaking floor,
...

In my pensive moon
I knew you better.

Never to come back from
...

The chase, the speed―
the kill. How far you go to―
retrieve the dead horse
from the river.
...

Lost on the way
to find the wetland
where lily of the valley grows.
...

Why silently burns―
the red moon, in
moaning night?
...

The hanged girls,
unraped?
Or the slit throats?
What your antennae are sensing?
...