Satish Verma Poems

Like a snake girl,
the black tresses trailing
behind the heels.
...

Advent of strange
sign on forehead was asking
for the laughing eye.
...

I was a poem
reinventing the estranged
diaspora of words.
...

Forever the rituals
of hate and love continue.
The sun survives the feet.
...

You stop at the brink,
to flirt with the rim of
the lake.
...

I would be riding
your stumps― to
byzantine castle
of ardor.
...

The other day.
A full moon was walking
on the pavement
like a pedestrian.
...

You always said, violence
was in you. Everything was dying
around.
...

The truth of my blood
at the mensal
without prayer and anguish.
...

Coming of age. Sometimes
it disturbs. I will play with fire, in separating
flames. Sun was not cooling.
...