Satish Verma Poems

Your gifts, I do not want to keep.
Shapeless doves on the grass,
were ready to take a nascent flight.
My small hands prepare a daisy meal.
...

The valley holds on, to murder
of moon, behind the trees.
It is dark and clouds are meditating.
...

Wages
of alienation
were increasing.
We were afraid
...

You said it was a sin to trade for the hunger.
I was looking into your eyes,
something was amiss,
tears had become stones.
...

Inadequately the clouds covered the moon
the wind was soft and silky.
The death of shadow was not complete.
Stars had fled from groans of night.
...

Hired time felt that terminal import
was cloaked, and we were not ready
for the consolation.
Our conscience was giving a terrible blow
...

They slaughtered the icon in captivity
as an act of mercy.
To know the secret of madness
why people were falling on knees?
...

Why you think of reversing the wheels
when life has stopped moving?
The time has fled from your hands
and settled on the body of death.
...

I look at a slice of sky and weather
from the window of my sick room
tethered to the bed by depression.
...

When the sun dips on the horizon,
I will invite the yellow moon.

Time raises the mist,
...