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
Illusion! The lost wanderer Where does the path lead? An elegy, Lamentation of the heart A bleeding soul An effete relationship, Creeping desires Alas! Astonished lie all In search of “Sculptor” Lost in the wilderness Self despiciency Slight, a revulsion
Dream not happiness feel the happiness If unhappy now feel you will be happier later If happy now think you will be happy ever If in a composed mood maintain the composer while in Ecstasy as well as in turmoil
Even on a normal sunny day My mind appears gloomy I have everything going smooth But I feel something I am missing For no reason my mood is cloudy I aspire for things which others have and forget those things
Take these hot pavements To my horizon of unborn secrets Beating down like a drum Never mind that scorching sun Together, we’ll run. The proliferation we seek Like a soft photosynthesis Blooming in this parched desert What do you think?
Evanescent be the vision I see, ephemeral be that which I seek.. But I search for I ought, for without it, I am but nought. Not for an answering soul, but for the manifestation of that which I conceive; a