Was it necessary to see, what you wanted me to see, when I was keeping open my wound to hear the unheard scream? What was that which was getting in air? A little disjointed time, asking peace for the land, to stop the moulding on the medallions?
The divide and hate,the hate and divide, the kill, the kill, the kill of mercy and this was to be believed, not to believe in the grim fate of the fall. Pain was you,was me,was him.
The guilt of chewing polluted words. To accept the uncertain, the naked lies.
Blood was on shirt, blood was on sheet, blood was on paper, blood was in eyes.
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 firstname.lastname@example.org. 5-A ii, Mayoor Colony, Alwar Gate, Ajmer – 305007 INDIA Mobile +91 9829071468
It was coming up, the politics like dirty sex in tall Parthenium grass. The panther was hiding on a steppingstone watching the hot, field hockey played with skulls of peers. Mauled, the peach skin was entertaining sunlight in the metaphoric
Writing on sleeves to remember your departure and becoming a stray cloud. The maternal touch of the sky, you can sleep whole life on dense logics. White sheets were burning unannounced in the home. I lost the key, to open
Beyond the sex he was sleepwalking in shame hiding his faith ingloriously. A poacher in harem of politics, where you stack the hidden virility for killing the money. A single mate must die making love on screen in the vicinity
I am your child,yet you choose to ignore that fact I am your flesh the fruit that proved other trees that said you can not bear wrong. I shamed your enemies Wrapped their faces in shame with believe that you’re
Brambly winds has shaken the buds of your may And may be your coral is much more red And in the blue Mediterranean where she has lay The dreams of a crystalline streams by her bed Past her garden where