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. Satish Verma has published seven volumes of poetry in English and four in Hindi, translated three books of Ravindra Nath Tagore in Hindi. He lives in Ajmer [INDIA] where he runs a charitable holistic institute called SEWA MANDIR FOUNDATION.
The whole truth was porus,
a hard punch on my face. We stood
on the edge of lies. Body
twisted at several places, mutually
hating, yet telling sweet nothings,
bored umpteen times like eroded hisses.
The shrieks belie the red wall of flames,
reddened lids. Cannot enhance the
blackness of night for stars to shine.
They butchered a symphony. A nude
cries. The tongue slips. Bonanza for bats.
And I resume the hunt in starlit jungle of birds.
Blue lips surround a pink hole.
Teeth were not visible, but bite was sharp.
How do you love a distanced friend?
The beauty of Raflesia?
Satish Verma
---------------------------------------------
WOODROSE
The whole truth was porus,
a hard punch on my face. We stood
on the edge of lies. Body
twisted at several places, mutually
hating, yet telling sweet nothings,
bored umpteen times like eroded hisses.
The shrieks belie the red wall of flames,
reddened lids. Cannot enhance the
blackness of night for stars to shine.
They butchered a symphony. A nude
cries. The tongue slips. Bonanza for bats.
And I resume the hunt in starlit jungle of birds.
Blue lips surround a pink hole.
Teeth were not visible, but bite was sharp.
How do you love a distanced friend?
The beauty of Raflesia?
Satish Verma
----------------------------------------
WOODROSE
The whole truth was porus,
a hard punch on my face. We stood
on the edge of lies. Body
twisted at several places, mutually
hating, yet telling sweet nothings,
bored umpteen times like eroded hisses.
The shrieks belie the red wall of flames,
reddened lids. Cannot enhance the
blackness of night for stars to shine.
They butchered a symphony. A nude
cries. The tongue slips. Bonanza for bats.
And I resume the hunt in starlit jungle of birds.
Blue lips surround a pink hole.
Teeth were not visible, but bite was sharp.
How do you love a distanced friend?
The beauty of Raflesia?
Satish Verma
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HALF-CLOSED LIDS
By: Satish Verma | 06/12/2009This nothingness was overwhelming. When words fail to tell the facts, only silence talks.
MOLTEN TEARS
By: Satish Verma | 06/12/2009savage was the bond of weakness; we were hiding behind the pain of decline, abdicating the singed shrine of nameless opposition, nowhere the roots
IN REVERSE
By: Satish Verma | 06/12/2009Just unbound, the death rate. Red roses had no qualms. Numbers, unapologetic, they die or commit suicide. Death had no tombs. One by one they cross the stream, sinking half, floating half
DARK PRISON
By: Satish Verma | 05/12/2009unhinged i wake tying ribbon around the tree of amnesia, the butterfly startles, despairs the blue of humility, all i wanted was the silence
HAND GLOVES
By: Satish Verma | 05/12/2009today i am not one whole, placid; blood streaked globe of full moon was hovering over me all night to freeze a ruined landscape, i was
ARROGANCE
By: Satish Verma | 05/12/2009Sometimes it pours like hot drips of melted wax from a candlestick; your migraine.
ONCE UPON
By: Satish Verma | 04/12/2009Robbing the silence of heights to undo the whole sky, you lean on an enigma to become reverential
GOING NOWHERE
By: Satish Verma | 04/12/2009On the blue icicles you were colliding with orbiting electrons
HALF-CLOSED LIDS
By: Satish Verma | 06/12/2009 | PoetryThis nothingness was overwhelming. When words fail to tell the facts, only silence talks.
MOLTEN TEARS
By: Satish Verma | 06/12/2009 | Poetrysavage was the bond of weakness; we were hiding behind the pain of decline, abdicating the singed shrine of nameless opposition, nowhere the roots
IN REVERSE
By: Satish Verma | 06/12/2009 | PoetryJust unbound, the death rate. Red roses had no qualms. Numbers, unapologetic, they die or commit suicide. Death had no tombs. One by one they cross the stream, sinking half, floating half
DARK PRISON
By: Satish Verma | 05/12/2009 | Poetryunhinged i wake tying ribbon around the tree of amnesia, the butterfly startles, despairs the blue of humility, all i wanted was the silence
HAND GLOVES
By: Satish Verma | 05/12/2009 | Poetrytoday i am not one whole, placid; blood streaked globe of full moon was hovering over me all night to freeze a ruined landscape, i was
ARROGANCE
By: Satish Verma | 05/12/2009 | PoetrySometimes it pours like hot drips of melted wax from a candlestick; your migraine.
ONCE UPON
By: Satish Verma | 04/12/2009 | PoetryRobbing the silence of heights to undo the whole sky, you lean on an enigma to become reverential
GOING NOWHERE
By: Satish Verma | 04/12/2009 | PoetryOn the blue icicles you were colliding with orbiting electrons