A useless space between the sentences, ghastly story does not end in black and white. Again the heart cries. I keep on knocking on the doors and then return to blackness.
Sometimes people become insects. Cockroaches, ants and spiders, weaving their webs and hills, crawling, creeping, clawing. Flesh eaters. Pouncing upon hapless victims.
Depression. I am devastated. Something churns in breast, dousing the spirit, lines and words. Cannot sit quiet. Agoraphobia. Don’t want to talk. Somewhere a name crops up. Saint or beast. Under the trees there is no shade. I walk barefoot. Hungry dogs chasing the flies. Humidity fills the eyes.
Silence of the night. City has stopped running. All the dead will speak now. Not asking any revenge, but peace for the living people.
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
Page 1. the celebrated sailing frog from Montgomery County went a court’n, or so the tale iz toad to a grand ole mansion built around 1910, and e’en ‘pon being razed ~2012 ah no dummy sea worthiness still plainly showed,
Civil war: Again you are visiting the childhood.A green pond. Smoke filled eyes ask, what was a home? A black city of white hills. You were climbing on dreams to reach a baby moon. And the night was very long,