Satish Verma Poems

A mentalist does not feel
secure, when you start
jaywalking in the empty street.
...

Wearing raw beef,
speaking Buddha,
it was real time in dystopia.
...

The long tentacles return
to gather you,
in clawless loops.
...

I hear again your voice
after injury pause.

An apologia.
...

Skin deep, the moon
goes with me,
to bid goodbye to old year.
...

Landed into a pi I―
am still struggling to
sort out, what did I lose
in vocabulary.
...

Living on the fringes of
faith, you become epiphanous.
A halo chases you, its stomach
coming out, like a starfish
...

A silent vigil was on,
for sun, which was getting
ready, to pass on the baton,
to sleeping moon in a winter storm.
...

A firefly in a jar
will not fly.

Presiding over the genocide
...

Handcuffed, you digress
from the vacuity. A bucket
full of hymns, will not―
erode, the fog of winter.
...