The big clock tower at the railway
Station no more works;
Their dials remind of dried up wells,
hands mere decorations like that of an invalid old man.
Don’t approach any stranger with a smile
And bother to ask the time;
In small personal watches,
Adjusted to be a bit slow or too fast,
Today everyone inhabits their own comfortable
Zones of history and time —
Public time has died.
Keep inhabiting your own space in the platform.
Smile only to familiar faces.
Let the fact that your watch has stopped, and you
are totally out of place and time,
Remain a secret.
The big clock tower at the railway station has
Been shut down;
In the platform below the tower,
To take us to very different places of existence,We wait for the same train
3 comments:
Hey,
so,
I like yours poems
I like the way you elaborate the images, and i like your choice of images..
The old clock tower is very good because i like the way you proclaim, " public time is dead and yet we wait for the same train".brilliant.
Hmmm nose ring, i like because it is so visual, i could see the old grandmas,their silver curls and then the way he touches her nose ring..
And yes, before love there is a period when you are in love with love..
I like your other poems also, but i wanted to tell you why I like them, so talked about my top favorites.
so carry on, write more..
pooja
PS- yadu recommended that I read you.
Hi
Unsolicited comments from a stranger....
Your thoughts are good.....like a rough diamond ....needs to be polished ....to a glitter that will never die....good luck
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