Short Backtracking Poems

Every road is closed 
backtracking to find a way 
to my parents house...

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Like antiwords, the absent 
truth, walks with you.

It had indented the push.
Profanities are on rise.

Marginal dare has a 
bracing truism.

I am working on a thesis. 
The candles are out.

Light will come from burning 
doors. Smashed windows will harbor 
the grudge.


Satish Verma...

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laying down
having a hard
time getting up

not sleeping
mind racing
with the noise

of cars chasing
each other around
an oval track

backtracking
fond memories
finding found

dream footage
photos took at
take a look at

perfect timing
in our lives
leaving me

to sigh
to laugh
and smile...

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UNEXPECTED
AS IF NOT SAID
BUT THE WORDS
HOW THEY WERE SAID
SO LOUD AND CLEAR
STILL, A REPEAT HAD TO BE HEARD
ONCE AGAIN
JUST TO ENSURE THAT THE WORDS WERE BOTH HEARD
 AND UNDERSTOOD CORRECTLY….
BACKTRACKING,
TURNING THE CORNERGOING BACK TO THE VOICE OF THESE WORDS
LOOKING EYE TO EYE
THEN RESPONDING SIMPLY BY SAYING..
“HOW COULD HE NOT”!...

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A goose hydroplanes
on a strip of wet air.

Comic honk,
wings backtracking frantically.
It blunders about directionless
as if bananas
were attached to its feet.

It’s the slick chill
making this happen.
The funny thing is,
it’s not even funny,

because a goose that can skid
on an ordinary blacktop
probably won’t make it
into Spring....

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I was waiting,
the moon dance will start now.
Night was softly purring
near the damp thighs of hills
in happy valley.

Day was wasted
in prowling for silver spoons.
The hushed memories of hot summer
will criss-cross my thoughts,
food of soul, for hungry.

The life finally accepts the defeat
before passions, interned forever.
You keep holding the truth till last breath
and walk away from glory of songs,
reaching nowhere.

I don’t belong to me.


SATISH VERMA...

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