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Below are poems written by poet Satish Verma. Click the Next or Previous links below the poem to navigate between poems. Remember, Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth. Thank you.

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Not begging, 
for a native dream; 
hiding an ocean in the eyes.

The hills were trembling. 
I am going to cross the river, 
of flames.

I am sitting on the dirt floor, 
counting the cowries.

This was my home, 
that was my book.

Playing the game of death.

What had you written, O god 
with your quivering hand. 
I am still following a riderless horse.

Not the least. Any want ...
Give back my blank page.

Satish Verma

Copyright © Satish Verma | Year Posted 2016


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