It was inheritance of pain. I should have known. Incontinent, she was scared to hug me: the child, after the rape. Shepherding the lacerations: petrified, a body of lad
floating in a sewage tank; a short circuit in an incubator, row of infants, life snuffed out in flames; of being. I want to know ontology, need a spinal surgery; somebody wants to abort a fetus,
because of mistaken identity, an alien egg was implanted; racing time, bitter and corrosive, it happned for the first time; karma, you say. I don’t agree, you need camel’s milk to clear
your thoughts, like clenched fist against the darkness; the little child, lad, infants, mortality after a wrong calculation; the test tubes and petri-dishes, need despoiling while the soul screams in a
cage; I am ready to jump out of the window, stories down on the legends, unburdened!
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
The rapture was on prowl to get the believers. You knew what you should not have known about the baby blue. Aphasia, experiences an impulsive violence, beyond the dead. Bionic hands to capture the moment of swapping uremia with swastika.
HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY Intelligent man says, I feel it is a special day It is not my birthday It is mother’s day When our daughter came to bring us happiness, I felt it, A special day Children truly excited to
’tis a playing field for many kinds out in the arena, to discern the companionship of the puissant sun ’tis a hot, new summer day , blithe and sound maketh thou run, run, run… syrupy voice of nightingale, fills candied