A cinder, neither coal nor ash, my life, clogs the roots of swaying carnations. Fear, like a cheetah, runs faster than discretion. Helplessly you tear off the last page of the book without reading the end.
One petaled coral, green, hides the white death, drowning the hope. The river has changed the course, without meaning, purpose, meandering, engulfing the cardinal designs.
A homeless god wanders, in my garden, to sit for a while in the ruins of burnt umbers, till the shrine is completed.
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
Beautiful God, so beautiful in truth and glory Wonderful God, so wonderful and so holy Awesome God, awesome to me of all the universe God reigns in power and dignity Ruling in love and in His mercy Leading the way
Beautiful eyes Imagine falling in love with someone you have never seen. Would you give your heart away to a mystery? What if you could fall head over heels, do you think you would try? Or would you run away
They’ve got their arms up in in the air while she is tossing her her coloured hair If you’re going put in her a chair then she’s somewhat debonair But come stage time and she’s jiving from stair to stair