For the bird, I knocked the cage to set it free. My tryst, with a nightmare begins. It was me, dismembered in sour death where sorrow meets the sorrow. Now rising, now falling, the delicate frame on unseen wings beneath the stars, above the moon.
The killing circle of trampling wishes takes you nowhere. In cubicles you are lost, recycled. The theme of projecting yourself looks straight in your face. What next? The time infects you mercilessly. Vaguely you become aware of imminent chaos.
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
Crush of holy hands on blue skin of a flame was the wet revenge of a withering rose. That defiant streak bursts with knowledge of a sin. White and black, this was me and my unwrapped flesh. Dirty glory of
Much can be said But we speak in hushed tones Curt with our responses Hiding behind the wall of vulnerability We hold our breaths in anticipation Who will be the first to crack ? Unsightly in the walls of protection
I see a place with starless skies. I see a dark smooth world endlessly a float in the black, its star long since blinked out. Covered with small closely spaced geodesic domes. Geodesic domes all interconnected, all with conduits leading
It happens so often, that i forget the coffin. Forget the existence of the end, when I’ll lay engraved beneath the land. Forget that one day i’ll be all alone, all that I’ve known, will be unknown At some moments