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

Sound Bites

Folder: 
Satish Verma

The plaques were being 
attached to the wall. You would not be able 
to go for refusal. The right to say no 
was inherent in yes. 

Accepting the exorcism and self― 
flagellation, exonerates you from the guilt of 
giving away; which was not yours. How 
can you claim that you are your own master? 

You tie a knot on the thread, hang it 
on the weeping tree, throw back your head, 
and wipe out all the questions, I wrote 
on your forehead. 

Peace― it will be mine.

Shadow Boxing

Folder: 
Satish Verma

Find an auspice today. 
The moon was coming back 
after an abdication. 

Lurching on cobblestoned stretch 
of blue-black clouds; paring 
the tall conical trees of 
royal pines. 

Heaped with roses, a man 
with no-war slogan, lies 
in the open earth. 

You will not perceive― 
any smell of smouldering pen and knives. 

The body turns without 
a comma.

Sound Bites

Folder: 
Satish Verma

The plaques were being 
attached to the wall. You would not be able 
to go for refusal. The right to say no 
was inherent in yes. 

Accepting the exorcism and self― 
flagellation, exonerates you from the guilt of 
giving away; which was not yours. How 
can you claim that you are your own master? 

You tie a knot on the thread, hang it 
on the weeping tree, throw back your head, 
and wipe out all the questions, I wrote 
on your forehead. 

Peace― it will be mine.

Shadow Boxing

Folder: 
Satish Verma

Find an auspice today. 
The moon was coming back 
after an abdication. 

Lurching on cobblestoned stretch 
of blue-black clouds; paring 
the tall conical trees of 
royal pines. 

Heaped with roses, a man 
with no-war slogan, lies 
in the open earth. 

You will not perceive― 
any smell of smouldering pen and knives. 

The body turns without 
a comma.

Modesty

Folder: 
Satish Verma

In fever, I will 
always see butterflies 
landing on your nose. 

White, yellow, black. 
They come and go and I am 
sitting under a cherry blossom tree. 

Stroking you, cajoling you 
to drop the wings. 

In grass the sun waits 
in a dew drop. 

The moon was not a poor thing. 
Will come in white robes 
to preach.

One Turmoil Deep Inside

Folder: 
Satish Verma

Resisting your wisdom 
I want to remain, thoughtless. 
Not bargaining, I come in the crowd, 
to negotiate a stunt. 

The awakening, 
the trepidation. I pay honour 
to the great stress angler― 
my poverty of cruel jokes. 

Like a fox to reignite― 
the identity. I will move away 
from the body of blood soaked denials 
standing alone, against the genocide. 

Was still hungry, eating 
your violet-red― plums. Not was whole, 
the controversy. Somewhere a 
forensic evidence will say, mask was not real.

Interlacing To Catch A Theme

Folder: 
Satish Verma

With the tip in the center, 
this is the circle of an iron will 
undoing the circination. 

You are moving in a straight line 
now. The knots in the chest 
will take you to surrogacy. 

The needle's eye was watching 
you― gauging your grit. 
Can you take a prick? 

Without blood? From an 
urn you lift a red string to tie 
on the hands of unborn thought. 

You miss a line, a word 
an image. Still it happens deep 
inside. An angst constricts you in 
pythonic grip. A poem becomes you.

Before The Sunset

Folder: 
Satish Verma

I am trying to do my bit, 
nonpareil. A soundproof doer, 
erasing the palm from the painting― 
drinking the nitrogen from the air 
starving myself. 

Cannot bequeath my eyes, 
my thumb vision. You were always 
asking about my sadness, emptiness. 
I will not tell about 
the acid times. 

That killing instinct was not 
there. I will give you the 
unborn poems, that would not wear 
the death mask, my unspoken 
thoughts, peeling after the darkness and 
I will let you go to find your path.

Predictions

Folder: 
Satish Verma

The hunger was scouring 
each house― in utopia― 
daring you to open the door. 

Weavers were ready for― 
the moment― of encounter― 
to spin the corona. 

As if an asteroid was heading 
towards the silent ariel, 
to destroy its integrity. 

Beyond good and bad, there 
was an effigy of a designer― 
in dancing mode. 

It was a jinx in your 
speed. You would not climb on a 
walk without a rope.