Gold-tipped

Gold tipped short poem

Photo by F. D. Richards

At that time
I was thinking something else
when you gave me a half-kiss,
my winter naked moon.

A souvenir left by sun
for the sake of night. I remembered
pink roses
unpetaling green thighs-

for quest of shelter in civil war
of reminiscences. Merciful was the landslide
which buried the whispers of
dead dreams.

Unpretending, unleaping, the ocean
sucks the grief of clouds. The
rains have started a dance
for the suicidal gods.

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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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