Satish Verma Poems

Lion's tooth, dandelion
in dead winter,
holds on to your dress.
...

I

The blend of gene and name.
How you carry the
...

Water has the wisdom,
the bones may not agree.

No commentary today. There was no
...

Vespa,
the live wasp
of paper house,
feeding the insects
...

Indicted,
the firm grass―
will start a fire. I was trying
to find my path in smoke.
...

It was just my time.

To become responsible for
me and I had become recluse,
...

I hear your voice
coming from within.
The disconnect, the cultural clash,
from river,
...

In blood and grass
lies the snowman.

I must not look at it twice
...

Not knowing―
was a bliss, writing
a poem.
...

Amnesia.
I want to drink tonight,
purple hellebore.
...