Life invades the truth. Who cares? The night was thin, my eyes will search for stars. Now pain travels, backward from a smile? A myth unfolds the terror, of infinite tomorrows, an escape from the eternity?
We will die, only in our separate truths, united by untruths. Picking our poisonous arrows, worshipping our griefs, an invisible hand unclothes our past. I ask myself was it the spectre, fear of extinction?
Death will not shout, it comes quietly. Death by cancer or cirrhosis, it comes sailing. We were already dying, without our clones like a deserted wasteland, with lethal seeds.
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
Corpses floating in the river A child slowing dying at the roadside Watching men unload massive sacks of rice She pleaded and cried Gunshots heard in the night Screams for mercy unheard The smell of death filled the air Lifeless
The world it was changed with aplomb, When they let loose the nuclear bomb. After living in fear For many a year, Now it’s time to leave Vault 101. But fighting the bandits is hell, When your shotgun does run