The Dead Dream

It was a clouded heart.
I was fidgeting with fate and
there was no otherway, no way.
I did not want to keep him waiting either, but
I must be ready to receive the guest.

Thief of pain was coming in the blizzard
for a murky deal. I refuse to fall apart.
The epitaph was incomplete and Emperor
was demanding his due of golden sleep. Was it
the worth of a new born. Sky was overcast.

Taking the thought to its fossil home. Stings were
sharp and the next stop was ocean. Water
of funeral way. Still the sweet lips would
haunt for the honey. Gone, the wax palace
was gone, no body was going to light it.

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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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