I believe, I had not arrived when you were arbitrating between naked steel and the truth. Violence were you. I was watching the burning pyres in a row. Small hands were collecting the ashes, casting glances on the falcons. Why reincarnation of the reaper again and again arching the helpless life in terror? Half-filled cups of tears are spilled on the marbled smoke. We made the truce with slaughter in moonlight pitying the survivors in sun. The face watching from the window disappears. An auburn dawn wakes with swollen eyes. I might find a lost child of the empty womb – wandering in wilderness of three dimensional sorrow. O mother! somewhere the roots are waiting!
Satish Verma is ferociously original. You feel resentment, outrage and violence, cannot pin it down but wonderfully spin your brain. Satish has the greatest sensibility which sweetly exploits the delicacies of human conflicts. You are taken aback. This is magic, profoundly soulful. In a lone, long journey Satish Verma is still discovering himself. Beaten, betrayed, felled, he comes back with fierce velocity. His childhood was traumatized by India’s partition. Terror, violence and death were witnessed which built the morals of poet. Becoming defiantly recluse Satish Verma pursued his value based life on the path of truth. Teaching Botany for 35 years he was writing poetry, privately and solemnly and published twelve collections. Worked silently with social causes. His scions, doctors and engineers are living in USA. He chose to live back in his beloved country and resides in Ajmer (INDIA) with his spouse Kanta running the Charitable Holistic Institute of SEWA MANDIR FOUNDATION. He can also be reached at email@example.com. 5-A ii, Mayoor Colony, Alwar Gate, Ajmer – 305007 INDIA Mobile +91 9829071468
The sun rises softly Through the dawn Announcing daylight Slowly shining over Forests and woods Birds singing and chanting Under the azure hood A symphony of love Joyous tunes in the air The earth is filled With the power of
I know not whether it was of ginger, berry or bergamot _it was fabric and she wore it instantly like a shimmer_ voluptuous almond ‘vollmond’ of gothic ‘purpur’, voice creature telling glow-in-the-dark lies _beautiful. Entering. Barrel organ unravelled and chimes