Audacity to live with your demons, putting up a fake love belief, who was the time, of that dark night? Distinctly alive to what I was not just putting up the shades of death into nothingness of peace in war.
Searching for self in capacious hope, was it the half-light of a moon, slipped on the words of a hoisted grief? A wild truth was better than silken ribbons of fabricated lies. I am tired of playing games on the turf of synthetic desires.
It would be time again, for what was time, encapsulated in crazy dialogues of taking on a chaste enemy. I will give my life for a bright red rose in absence of sun, drenched in fire and burning in dew drops, for the flowering of melting snow.
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
I had a dream last night. It was very concise but interesting. Rather revelatory, but not prophetic in the usual way. There was a class with a facilitator encouraging input based on a lesson plan provided to the class. I,
Voltage charges power lines’ high wires All honest men die liers Her electric current runs tight by pliers My fires burn, they breathe, ash, and smoke Held so tightly I couldn’t help it my hand broke Shattered into a million
Riding slowly among the misty clouds The endless curves of mighty hills But i wonder it’s not fascinating me anymore Why i curtailed my world in you? Deep down there lays beautiful valleys Defining life beyond explanation But my soul