Satish Verma Poems

When you were rolling in dust,
a puritan said, truth was me.
It was getting dark in Himalayas.
...

I have peeled off my eyes.
Fear of unbeing creeps in,
genes were escaping.
...

An oriole gives
an edgy call
in the blaze of morning.
...

Deep blue, almost black,
sadness.
Being,
my ache of existence.
...

Watching the ascension
of half-moon from the brown hills
there was a blast in veins.
...

In a pool of blood
a face swims.
Under the boulders
there is a muffled scream.
...

What is the relevance now
to live for a cause?
Epicenter has changed.
They were altering the human gene.
...

In the valley of blasts
a row of jacarandas
tall, sweet smelling,
...

Burnt-out myths in the old city
are stitching the lips of people.
Pink walls smell like blood.
...

It is,
what do you not say
I read the dusk
on your eyes.
...