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 email@example.com. 5-A ii, Mayoor Colony, Alwar Gate, Ajmer – 305007 INDIA Mobile +91 9829071468
They hold each others’ hands Walking down the lane Their hearts beating with praise Was it the season of rain? The water begins to pour In the silent night The boy appeals for a dance, in the starlight Hands held
Flying through the clouds of an agitating sky she was landed on the shore of despair. Unknown of the tyrannous rapter the angel became wounded by his erroneous desire. Following the winds of fallacy she got lost among the devils.
Ever close close together ever fast in our embrace. We have lived lived a lifetime always danced at life’s fast pace. Danced to tunes tunes remembered that for us will never fade. Knowing now our time is ending yet, come
Life, Who can’t dance to your tunes? Today you make us smile, Tomorrow the pain is unbearable, The day after that, We are filthy rich, A month later, We cannot afford three meals a day… What game are you playing
Generation grips, I am the street in dysphoria. You run, shout, the arc bleeds, you become your enemy that kills the alphabets A statue was hung upside down to eject the violence from plastic lips. Blood stained sidewalk throws a