Disconnection Poem by Satish Verma
Disconnection
Move on. O city, you
were not worth of
living any more,
sleeping on your tusks.
I will not assume
any other new name―
when the hurricane
finally arrives.
It will not go. You
can keep scratching
for whole life.
Your psoriatic scalp.
The attempt to
commit suicide was
worthless. Nobody
will write a note.
I will not invite
the white moon to―
break the fast,
after the bloodbath.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
4/25/2024 2:06:58 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Genius or madman, I find your style mesmerizing.