# #betrayal #life #forgiveness #suffering #sadness #pain #mistakes #madness #let me be

Hauntingly

Folder: 
Satish Verma

Sometimes the unholy fears 
come obliquely― 
from the scorpions. 

Tongue tastes the salt of spilled 
hate. You execute the hooded anxieties, 
creating a cadaver pyramid. 

Stich-open-stitch. Cobra 
in the bush. Awesome colors of eyes 
Brown-blue-green. 

I am not going to kiss 
the chillies. Burning hot lips. 
The contours were enticing. 
I shut my eyes for a weird encounter. 

The floors pulverized. I still 
stand in mud, on my own.

A Broken Chain

Folder: 
Satish Verma

A dumb copy of me. 
You were done for. 
Sometimes the design goes awry. 

Ptosis. You are called for― 
a fall. But you refuse 
to die. 

You survive the clouds, the 
first moon, the brown eyes. 
Me before the sun. 

Let us take a risqué humor. 
Forget each other 
and become strangers. 

One intentional error. 
Honey, honey, honey. 
Bees ready to fly away. 

The shrine of a flier. 
Where it was? 
I was searching the sea.

Emotional Resonance

Folder: 
Satish Verma

Sorcery comes handy 
when you start 
beheading the sunflowers. 

The mountain goes bald, 
qualifies for the 
murder. I set a bronze― 

lover on the pedestal to 
arrest the muffled 
voices, coming from silent cries. 

The grace was missing 
from the artifacts, you pluck 
from the freezing lips. 

Stones are falling. 

Millions of words. 

No meaning.

One Black Summer

Folder: 
Satish Verma

I break myself 
today, angry with me, 
for small things. 

Not able to finish 
the track, I will sell now― 
my dreams. 

How do I turnaround, 
to seek my aching legs, 
for the fear of climb? 

The call of the peaks, 
in deep ocean, 
for an asylum? 

Why did it happen to 
unhappen, when you were 
fighting like a lynx with fate?

What Else Does It Mean

Folder: 
Satish Verma

You did not tell me― 
what did you want? 

Departure was sad, 
unceremonious, escaping 
an epitaph. 
My legs become heavy. 

Unthinkingly, you 
write on the wall with foggy hands. 
The silhouettes tremble. 

Who will break this 
infernal cycle of reincarnation? 
That means, we should redefine 
the death. 

Nonetheless 
a creed is born. 

You walk on the burning coals 
to pick up the poppies, 
a gift of torn love.

The Safe Journey

Folder: 
Satish Verma

How not to feel 
the rapture of the deep 
after arousal of a centotaph. 

Like losing a hand, 
while groping for 
light. 

This was the sin 
of the silence, not ready 
to share the pain. 

Do not invade the 
private domain, when 
you decide to abdicate. 

Dishonesty was 
intact. You will not 
bargain for lies. 

When you love, 
You make it dirty.

In War

Folder: 
Satish Verma

O Earth, 
today, standing on your bones 
I will study my fears. 

I am talking to myself 
to say everything, which I don't 
mean, presiding over the violence. 

Bullet-ridden I 
will return your sorrow 
to sky, hailing the stars. 

From grief to grief 
I walk pigeon-toed, 
to explore the mines of seed thoughts. 

In summer, you 
offer the naked hands to me 
to write the poem of the day.

Prayer In Message

Folder: 
Satish Verma

There were no regrets― 
from the life to lose the game. 
Tell me, how can I forget 
you, when flesh was melting 
from the bones? 

The poetics. This was not 
the world, I had dreamed. 
Sinkhole. You are swallowed alive. 
The script was changing. 
War allows to drop the morality. 

Eye shamed. For your sake. 
O God, I had loved your creation. 
Why it had become dirty? 
This was no more my property. 
Take away the loaned apples. 

It is the split, 
the divide. I am walking 
barefoot to feel the bygone dead 
sacrifices.

Ceremonial

Folder: 
Satish Verma

Coming of age becomes 
temporal, when 
I start to speak. 

It was my ancient wound― 
which had come into being, 
to bleed. 

No mannerism, 
idiosyncrasy or culture 
was needed to stay dumb. 

Time runs in a 
narrow tunnel, to cross the enemy lines. 
I will unmourn my death. 

Like collecting the bluebells. 
After the burial of candor, 
there was no other ceremony.