Satish Verma Poems

This jungle of words.
Fear, like a badger
comes, and sits at my door.
...

When the dialogue stops
there will be a royal bleed.

I had not come to the
...

On the rim of a beer glass,
stand, white crystals of salt.
I was watching a pale moon.
...

Gliding on the clover
you invoke the sky.

A tiger moth lands on the―
...

I have never been the same,
after watching, the abandoned

moon, rising gracefully,
...

Give me a lone word.
I will write a poem.

You enter the final hour
...

When I hold the pen,
it trembles in my hand; the poem.

The catharsis.
...

Noway, I will ask
the poem, to become stressed out,
like the street,
beaten and used again
...

You dig in your heels,
when blood spills
under the skin.
...

Do the shadows
talk solemnly, when
the light goes out?
...