Satish Verma Poems

Of many gods,
I chose the rock-cut Buddha.
At night we would talk daily.
...

A solemn moon
talking to hills,
plunged in pain of tainted love.
...

Asking for privacy, a
green snake becomes deviant,
and turns lunatic.
...

Trap unplugged,
There was a hairy assault,
when you started playing
the sitar of three strings.
...

What organicity!
Moon was coming down
on me. A visual alacrity,
accepting the surrender.
...

A truth a day
was not sufficient.
There were many snakes.
...

Collecting more luggage
while moving on.

The hostages were left behind.
...

In transition, of
a starry namesake, holding hand―
in priceless moment,
of anthropic lineage.
...

Shame of centuries,
you wanted to erase.
Breasts were empty
...

I was badly shaken―
by the strange
gene expression.
...