Unjointed Time Poem by Satish Verma
Unjointed Time
Let the untold suffering
settle the incompleteness of truth.
You have to move out―
making space.
The empty chair fills in
at dark. I talk to my father,
daily about the remains of life
and falling debris.
A son does not want to
know the futurity. A dazed poet
will write the history of ruins
which was younger than memory.
A resilience still brings me
face to face with the gods of dead souls.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 9:23:14 PM # 1.0.0.1119
