by Satish Verma
Mountains were coming down to
never-home,
in surreal rebuff to shaking earth;
emerging from the shadows of sky.
In groping for the legs
this was the myth of lynching.
You are drenched in the rains
of promises.
A kiss for each lethal penetration,
for global time-
you are becoming a wasteland
borne out of swollen fingertips-
who would not write any name.
The many words of pain are finding
a new meaning from the vocabulary
of conceit and betrayals.
A deliberate isolation brings
the sound sleep to ashes to become a thing.
Satish Verma
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ABOUT THE POET ~
Pitted against the forces bigger than him Satish Verma has been fighting with life on his own terms. In this savage, violent and raging times, he has authored several collections of poetry in English and Hindi, in concrete and precise verses, analyzing the complex nature of man, history and ancient heritage of Homo sapiens. And standing at crossroads he is asking where do we go from here. His poetry communicates a beautiful, mystical mind exploring the images of nature, trying to find the meaning of the life and death, the ecstasy of talking to moon, flowers and wind in the kingdom of god. He wants to know cannot we live in peace?, Satish Verma addresses the most complex questions of philosophy, religion and political culture in a very subtle but virtual shocking manner. As aptly said by Lao Tzu, The one who speaks does not know, The one who knows does not speak, 5-Aii, Mayor Colony, Alwar Gate, Ajmer-305007 INDIA
Last updated December 24, 2012