You Had The Answer Poem by Satish Verma
You Had The Answer
Do I ask a question,
sometimes red―
sometimes blue?
My pain of centuries
was not interpretive. There
were no tears left
in the eyes.
Something gets in my
poem. I go white, as
the blank page of a book.
Like a big fish
claiming its territory
on small limbless cold animal.
The pure adoration
makes you numb. How can
you handle a falling moon?
The lavender was
melting into effeminacy.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/8/2024 3:47:36 AM # 1.0.0.1119
