Photo by summonedbyfells
Abdicating the shadows;
totemic.
I return back to dig up the buried-
moon from the ruins of poetry.
It benumbs.
No response was coming from
cajoling the black secrets-
of time-cast.
A storm was raging in a pack
of emptiness. Like a dead fly
between the pages of skulls.
I couldn’t find the exact words.
The religion of wish-lists.
Can you find the end of desires?
From thought to thought-
was there any vision?
Rate the poem
(1 votes, average: 3.00 out of 5)
(1 votes, average: 3.00 out of 5)Have something to say about the poem?
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
Give your feedback / review for the poem
Be the First to Comment & Review poem!