Satish Verma Poems

It hurts, the abstract isolation of life
emptying of self.
The infection
of water in the sun.
...

The tryst with path,
was full of voices of silence,
confronting its wrath & revenge.
Nothing was new, soft matter divided the winds,
...

Blows had blackened the mist,
fear of crossing the road, dented the veil.
‘Ism’ versus the boundary had a long rhetoric.
I was struggling with scars of learning.
...

When your lies pretend to be truths,
Your house becomes full of cadavers.
The reticent progeny,
you abandoned at birth, strikes.
...

Everybody was in hurry to unpack
the sins and reshuffle the names
of burns, by taking a holy dip
in mauve lake. I wanted to defang them.
...

Skylit my bright atrium,
pumps the future.
Which becomes the today
righting the wrongs.
...

In the culture of self, and wilting idol
who was going to interpret the truth?
To resolve the inner conflicts
of an ailing mind?
...

A stand-off between grass and moon
marginalized the perfume of night.
I was standing to read the graffiti
written by light and shade.
...

Confessional truth
is not my aggressive ego,
it is my fault.
The resolution of my conflicts with time,
...

The wheels find,
the track on my body,
why do I shiver & tremble?
The night gives me the depth,
...