Immortality

Immortality short poem

Photo by Olin Gilbert


A very disconnecting creek where bodies
were found, presents a pictorial death in night,
which must be challenged, I say. Then I think without
thoughts; summer was ending and a pandemic
was at the door. The art of debating the image
sears the mind. Must act, think later: the gold

coins have been thrown in the market, the
frozen lens behind the slit eyes watch the cargo
unloading: the explosions come in spate. What
was it – greed or fear? We are running blindly,
the brides, the boys, the men. Of modern governance
a metaphysical meditation.

The strings pulled behind the curtain, game
starts. Award is gifted. The name dies.

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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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Failed Immortality

Failed Immortality short poem

Blaze was coming to terms with pyrotechnic cascade. The dignity was emotionally drained out. The persona turned to anima, to find out the answer for quality verdict. A rogue mission had flattened the brain. The piano man was dead and

Time Surpasses Immortality

Time Surpasses Immortality long poem

When pinch of godly emotions diluted Into optical fusion of matted commotions And the whole concealed constellation Beguiled its proclaim in dismal dismay, Gurgling upsurges fused with a shy smile Amidst the mute chambers of heavy heads. Nothing like bleak