Philosophizing Poem by Satish Verma
Philosophizing
On the run,
was a bon viveur―
in amber thoughts.
I start unknowing you―
O invisible. A curse
will follow if you make me
a god.
I plead, standing
on the rubble, I will not learn
to live without the muse.
Sometimes you disappear
unshorn, in the rain forest―
of stunning phrases.
I hold,
the existence of a ghost.
Undying for the sake of
forced acceptance.
That was the art of inevitability.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/14/2024 4:01:48 AM # 1.0.0.1119
