Satish Verma Poems

Incandescent―
the oil lamps floating
on the holy river, have
started bleeding.
...

At the end of the day,
standing before a shut window―
in fear of power game
under a cataract of twilight.
...

You start forgetting
the absence of
existence. Wishing to remain
dead for sometime― to see what you did't
...

Nothing left to do
anything today.
Snow falling incessantly.
...

Revealing id,
without ego, and hunger.

I may not touch
...

Deeply troubled inside,
I become silent
like a quiet, serene sea.
...

The last thing
I wanted to say before
the sun went down.
...

The genial face of nephrite.
Jade, stone of the flank,
was becoming sectarian.
...

Copper-brown
I was always looking
at your face.
...

Like godfather,
moon was giving a
benevolent smile.
...