Satish Verma Poems

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

Born out of hate
condemned to fear from each other,
the race lives, the race dies.
...

Have-beens went into fury.
Like silkworms, after the shock
spinning the myths around them.
...

Famelocked,
sometimes he was talking to flowers,
asking their names.
...

A quest for celestial insanity
brings some comfort.
Somewhere the script had failed.
...

There were subtle declines,
still I opted for incompleteness.

A fierce battle was raging.
...

Give me a piece of your body
before you go.
A tooth, a nail, a curled hair.
A relic, my sadness wants to keep.
...

On the hay stack lies my body
brought from the shooting range.
Brain dead, I exit, to watch
the blood drenched earth. Foot prints of eternity.
...

Walked into the sun,
He. With weak flesh.
A storm was raging on burning sands.
...

Lines on forehead are deepening.
No signs of abatement
of fire in our bellies.
...