Satish Verma Poems

It was set on fire, the market place:
from a distance I was watching, the
hieroglyphic climate of the cutouts;
...

A pagan will search for antiparticles
after a collective wrong:
some tantric will throw up the smoke rings
before the poean starts.
...

To drill a hope in the drowned soul
was very difficult,
winds had blown away
the talisman.
...

I would give anything to die
in you, in your belly,
innocently. My voice of dissent
should hold the wings atop the kisses.
...

After a sacred kill
you thrived in scriptures.
Many centuries have passed for us
living without you.
...

Night was not worth
selling the womb. Biological warheads
were sufficient to take on
the gender eugenesis.
...

Dying piece by piece in shock –
a life without a mutiny.
Walking amidst blue kraits
you never raised the stick.
...

He was still paying the price
for ultimate unbending.
Before the black icon locked the waves
to start tremors for an apolitical murder.
...

When the battle lines were drawn,
the only mandate
for the human torpedo was to blow up
the silence of time.
...

Spark of libido was doused
in golden dust.
Let the darkness decide
the ascension of ice.
...