Imperfect Present

Imperfect Present short poem

Photo by benjaflynn


Priests of cave temple
go to sleep. Street urchins
drink the thinner, eat nail polish,
crushed lizard for a kick and then
go without food for three days.

The valley burns. Of what consequence?
Sting of truth overreaches. Another committed
icon walks through the bodies
sleeping on slimed stones,
somehow.

Do you hear the wails? The sirens?
Whole life spent on margins of future,
drinking your own salt. A shadow
wants to know, what was the hour
of destiny?

Windows tremble. The owl’s hoot hangs
in the air. Fearful dawn fails to
disclose the identity of death’s kiss.
Green anemone engulfs the king crab.
A cloud brings a message.

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Satish Verma

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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 kantasatish@gmail.com. 5-A ii, Mayoor Colony, Alwar Gate, Ajmer – 305007 INDIA Mobile +91 9829071468
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