Satish Verma Poems

Fear of a mound,
tumbling down
on the half-buried, half dead
archives of desires, comes
...

Not asking, was most difficult, from
the magma, to send a hot spring. It was
a classical translation of the pain in winter
of human spell, in a temple festival.
...

Will you walk with me
on the banks of a silent and invisible river?
Not paleowater eating the earth
but a collider, flowing in conscience.
...

On the battle turfs of a vernacular
hunger, the hikes were killing
the uncertain values. Committing suicide
was a regular feature.
...

Maimed, tortured for love of resistance
this night appears to be
without an end.
There was nothing to lose,
...

Inside, the battle wages.
One step down,
I drown myself in the frowns
of a thought. Night sucks at my fear.
...

A new planet was taking birth.
Stem cells were coming out of
obedience to carnality.
For resuscitation from kiss of death
...

Carrying my words in a small jewel box
I was listening to silence
of falling rain,
to heal my truth.
...

Ready to dismember the red geraniums
rains had no mercy.
Thunder did not show any preference
and hails had felled the pride
...

For little grains of truth,
listening to intuition
he disrobed – and walked into river
to die.
...