The Broken Statue Poem by Satish Verma
The Broken Statue
A sleepchaser brings
a quantum of pain
to fight the ugly night.
The patient attack
on the lids
for the sake of absinthe.
The son of lakes―
would bring in goat
to drink the elixir.
I would not talk
about the exile, which
one earned by donating―
the kidneys.
The blade of grace
cuts the sun into small
chapels which become eyes
of street dancers.
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...
4/24/2024 9:27:09 AM # 1.0.0.1119
The dance has no voluntary aspect. Neurons full of words align the letters so the truth may be more joyous, more hopeful to the airplanes grounded from lack of fuel. The fool in brightly colored textile diamonds jingles bells of silver pistol ammunition.