Wednesday, December 23, 2009

It

And now
You are a body.
It is lying there
On a floor
You never did.
It.

Hands that
Never dared touch
Hit chest
And kiss
To push life in.
Death has already kissed.

Friends weep
As do foes.
Is it for you?
Or their loss?
Even a tear
Of unexpected joy.

You feel nothing
You do not know;
You have
Since long gone home.
It is lying there.
It.

4 comments:

manju said...

Poems are frequently expressions of very personal feelings, so I find it difficult to comment on them.

Of the poems here, I think I like the very short ones the best- where you have expressed a single thought in a few lines.

Which do you like more, Vinodji- writing poetry or political commentaries?

Vinod_Sharma said...

Thanks for visiting Manju.

Poetry I have been writing off and on for a very long time. Commenting on political and other affairs is a recent development.

I have never thought of myself as a poet. In fact I barely know poetry.'Dohas' and 'chaupais' figure prominently in Indian poetry. Urdu shayari is often romantic and intensely personal in nature. May be there is a sub-conscious influence...

Although I have experimented with fashionable blank verse too, it has often not gone go well with the rhythm and rhyme in my head. I am sure that is visible!

UB said...

The final chapter,end. Feeling lost...

Vinod_Sharma said...

UB, the final chapter, the end is a reality that all have to face. But no one knows when.

This poem I wrote more than 25 years ago after the sudden demise of someone known to me.

Don't feel lost. Live.