Satish Verma Poems

Your hands
start a fire―
thinking beyond the rainbow.
...

Coming back with
nipples and fangs, all
the black visions.
...

The water breaks.
Do you hear the voices?
I will ask my half self.
...

It was not ending, not beginning
this fracas,
to search the exit.
Where to go where to.
...

Cruel times,
and the walls are rising.
The rivals.Medusae versus columns.
Snakes for hairs
...

You wanted tranquility
clean and sane,
scudding at persona
impact.
...

What could you do
when the donor fatigue
is on display? And stops the succor?
You are no more hungry.
...

Clapping with one hand,
when a suicide note was found
in the fist of a dead man.
...

No comments. The eagle
is ready to pounce on
your future, when you were
preparing to consume your past.
...

It was syntax
killing a kiss.
You play with a button.
...