Satish Verma

Gold Star - 37,384 Points (5-6-1935)

Satish Verma Poems

3921. * Return Journey 7/24/2009
3922. Claustrophobia 10/31/2007
3923. …… Of Humanity 9/30/2007
3924. Geography 4/25/2013
3925. A Lone Warrior 12/3/2009
3926. A Living Soul 5/16/2008
3927. The Final Retreat 12/3/2016
3928. ………….. Afraid Of Whom? 10/15/2007
3929. …… Distant Shores 10/3/2007
3930. Marking The Graves 12/29/2016
3931. Generosity 3/3/2009
3932. *depression 4/27/2010
3933. ‘crossing The Bar' Once Again... 5/25/2008
3934. A Family Dust 12/23/2009
3935. * The Dead Tiger 7/24/2009
3936. *impact 6/14/2010

Comments about Satish Verma

  • Seamus O' Brian Seamus O' Brian (9/19/2016 1:36:00 PM)

    Reading Mr. Verma's poetry is like chasing the siren of kaleidoscopic street fetishes, leaving you hungry to swallow mink-oiled feathers, while others charge the battlements of confused money-changers, and what you thought you grasped disappears down the tuberosity of a catfish spine.

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  • Thakker Bhupen Thakker Bhupen (6/6/2011 8:01:00 PM)

    I found 'Anniversary of Flirtation' sensational. Your poem and you are like the Colour Navy blue greeting Pink, under a Gold tree, Bhupen Thakker

  • Yacov Mitchenko (12/25/2009 8:35:00 AM)

    Satish Verma is a very interesting poet. I'm not quite sure I like the style, but it's highly provocative and original. The writer is definitely worthy of further study.

  • Goldy Locks (10/15/2007 11:14:00 PM)

    Satish's poems are loaded. They astound. Wrap your mind around his lines for this guy has lived intently, intensely and has much to share, teach.

    best care
    sjg -~-

Best Poem of Satish Verma

*impact

Turns me on
I will write a poem.

Delirious moon had
picked me up from under the skin.

The safety pin was broken,
now a crowd will disrobe me.

Everytime when my pain makes you cry
oranges are not meant for the sale.

A collegium will stich up the wound.
Once upon a caste the country will go.






• On reading Orange Crush of Simone Muench.

Read the full of *impact

Rains Are Coming

Sleep me, conceive me like sphagnum;
propel me to essence of death.
Seeing has put me behind the truth,
objectively.
Like centipede, fear crawls in deep blind cave
throwing the feelers.
The gene has faltered. No red lights.
A paw, a blackboard, white lines
message is not clear.

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