Trailblazer

Trailblazer short poem

Photo by BLMOregon

Prepare the bed
of the liquid art,
where the ice will kiss the fire.

Can you climb on the flames
to know the truth
of a molten lava?

Who killed the desire
to enter the frozen god
of revenge?

Alas, I will go back
to the wounded pride.
I will not sell my home of curse.

The innocent breast
of the moon,
has kindled the blaze again.

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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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Trailblazer

Trailblazer elegy

Allow me the autonomy Of innovative spirit Don’t undermine potential My purpose, don’t inhibit Don’t hinder my endeavors Nor interrupt progression Be mindful of my right To meaningful expression Don’t try to nail my wings Unjustly to the floor Don’t

The Trailblazer

The Trailblazer short poem

Comprehensive to common minds yet impressive. Creative writing demands appreciating. His composition is his recognition. Unknown to this world his designation. Nor noted he’s deserted. Exiled deep in oceans of literature, Get him a defibrillator. Too less like him left,