45 Minutes In A Day Poem by Sarnath Mukherjee
45 Minutes In A Day
It was as if I took a dip and
I felt salt inside my mouth…nose
But then
I was beside the bus window
A co-passenger struggling with
Me perhaps -
With roads roaring outside
The sun tormenting a race,
The dilapidated heaven
Still ensures me a chance
To melt and mingle
With thousand drops of salt
From smoked bodies.
Someone smiles
Someone whacks
To my relief;
The collars taste life,
A broken tooth tasted booze last night.
I shall get down
Bullying the unknown wave
Never able to drown me.
Sorry, Last line is bit harsh. I mean to say about the theme of poem what you not feel individually. Sorry again
Deaperated attempt to describe the circumstances. I think post-modernism creates havoc scene of chaos and stagnant life cycle. Visualisation of these chaos by the the various poet is totally imagery, they create scene (more or less every poet has the same background) which have very similar salt which must have come from sweat. Dear friend you are writing modern poetry where you need to bear the burden of being magician. your word must be carrying as much burden as the your theme. Sarnath I hope you will not write poem what you never feel.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/2/2024 5:42:00 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Sorry, Last line is bit harsh. I mean to say about the theme of poem what you not feel individually. Sorry again