Satish Verma Poems

When I was arranging daffodils
you send in tanks.

The sky was overcast.
...

Siblings
will take care of the morgue.
I am going to hang my god
today. Howling winds
...

It was the hiatus
that underlying silence
of which I was hearing the voices.
...

Aura begins from tongue
to spit fire and frozen rain
in the epileptic rage of insanity.
...

Are you genuine, I ask?
Your face, a stone wall,
I had been bruising my psyche against it.
I have no strength to bury myself alive,
...

Symbols are true, because they are there.
Your solemn ache
proud of failure
traces a circle.
...

To become or not to become a renegade,
or to die or not to die for a semi-god?
These were some of the questions
thrown at an incomplete script.
...

Anxiety was touching the mime
I cannot hold a reality.
We were playing with each other.
...

You were sitting on a honeycomb
I wanted a life
without stink or stain.
Intently staring at every celebration
...

I woke up clutching the dreams
in deluge of tears.
Night had a brackish taste,
the other side of moon was dark.
...