# #betrayal #life #forgiveness #suffering #sadness #pain #mistakes #madness #love #Friendship

No Snobbery

Folder: 
Satish Verma

Talk of politics, 
and the auction begins. 

Every rock has a price. 
The marble will fetch more flesh. 

The granite breaks below 
your eyes. I limit the tears. 

No time left for complaints. 
I am ready for the good –bye. 

Will you meet me beyond 
the space, faraway in void? 

No words will follow me 
I am going unwritten. 

No profile, no editing. 
A bloom will pop up, from 
below the fallen tree.

Always A Thunder

Folder: 
Satish Verma

The nightingale was 
very sad. Nobody 
was taking a call. 



A scream would 
go unheard, when 
the floodgates are opened. 



The snake will not 
change the color. It 
will watch the Noah.

Negation Of What?

Folder: 
Satish Verma

Living, 
in the wounds, 
like a gas dragged into 
the black hole. 

Bedeviling the light. 
There are no winners in this war. 
Corona will not sit 
on any head. 

There was ambivalence 
in the robust thrust. 
The hard x-rays will 
burn the thoughts. 

Do not go on chasing the 
grazed genre. The style 
will bring back the questions 
which had no answers.

Drowning My Faith

Folder: 
Satish Verma

Partly stripped, head shaven 
for a royal revelation of eternal scars. 

Blood oranges. 
You want to practice your knife 
on the boneless. 

No loaves left for the rainy day. 

Do you believe in after life? 

White pigeons convulsed 
on the hot, searing sands of 
the rebel stronghold. 

The politics works. Small breasts 
with no filling. A gender bias 
makes you fit for a Stark effect. 

I search the flesh, the eyes 
the wisdom.

Quick-Eyed

Folder: 
Satish Verma

To live or not 
to live like a zero 
in the company of numbers. 



Add the space 
to the black hole. 
You will find infinity. 



The question mark 
will always twist 
the answer in big NO.

Difficult Choice

Folder: 
Satish Verma

If a gadget turns 
you on, and I cannot 
listen the voiceless 
music, how would 
we meet in parasynthesis? 

A parakeet lifts the long 
tail to climb on― 
the grill to watch the 
sweep of clouds, whistling 
past, when the world 
was mud-splattered. 

Take my hand and hold 
the queer. I was never me 
in the maddening crowd. 
I listen to only my body.

A Revival

Folder: 
Satish Verma

Patenting the human genes; 
fence-sitters 
will ask for the god. 

You will not reveal 
your preferences, though 
natural selection propels 

you to young veins. A 
self-denial comes into 
play. The jade was million 

years old. Taking a cue 
from the fathers, a 
monkey runs on the water. 

Making trouble was 
easier than to erect a 
home for the extinct to live.

The Secular Ethics

Folder: 
Satish Verma

A fact of time. The 
relationship 
has a price. 

There was a deep 
moral crisis, when I said, 
stay poor. 

Money makes you 
dishonest. Why don’t 
you start giving away? 

The secular thing. 
Were you tolerant 
of my protests? 

Ethics were changing. 
Why should not I be 
a very sad man?

Animal Kingdom

Folder: 
Satish Verma

There was too much, violence in the 
house. I walk through the pathways― 

of divided family. As if waylaid 
by the thugs. I am stranded bereft of― 

all my achievements, fixating at withdrawl. 

The menu 
alters. 
I go 
hungry. 
The toothache persists. Life is 
still.The vision seethes without wings. 
Pulsating silence. 
There is no voice. 

Like mannequins, we dance 
without geniality. The master 
is nowhere. Who was pulling 
the strings?