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.
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
Ceremonial Rituals in Hindu Religion smacks the logic Daughters and Sons though born in the same womb are differentiated Son’s carry the paternal ancestral legacy while Daughters are abandoned midway to assume In laws legacy Sons may not look after
Drifting through the meadow of love On a boat above the clouds Looking down on the face of Earth Colors of a Rainbow on dusty brown Creatures running round and round Demons slaying innocent dreams A gush of red flows
Dream on all ye decedents of Kunta Boldly go wherever you dared to go Be happy ,sing aloud Hakunamatata Dream of the precious gems of Congo Dream on Africa ,Dream Mr .Kenyatta . Dream on all ye daughters of Africa
Amidst the night, in the world so quiet Slumbered mind to take its time; Tired and weary, losing my control Into the world of endless hope; The pain and agony of my endless past Did come back to haunt me
All those romantic moments washed away in my flood of tears In a moment I got up from slumber dreading this horrific dream In that darkness of night I struggled to get back my sleep Sans sleep I waited endlessly