WHY ME.....,

to my WC family...lol

 

                  DEATH

A thousand words a night,a thousand nights with out a word,

scampering into the darkest corners of his mind,

Abruptly,he is stoned by a resplendent radiance,

bright enough to blind,

drenched in the sweat of ,fears unknown,

falling from a pagoda,

sinking in oceans of vast pain,

leathery kelps clinging to his feet,his hands,

drawing him in,

he bleeds from every possible slit in his body,

a thousand stigmata,a crown of thorns,

sinking deep,pain won't let him faint,

''I am dying at last''a soft whimper,

a last moan,

    BIRTH

all galaxies,planets,stars,

whirling with a tremendous momentum,

around one nuecleus,a common axis,

rotation,velocity,whirl winds,whirl pools,

the universe in a frantic Kathak,

''I am just conceived....My mother is clothing me with flesh....,''

warm,dark and watery,

a slight cooing,a gentle rhapsody...,

then,a thud,a slosh,

a piercing cry,

''I am being born,again...''

Ailing mother with tears of joy,

he slides out,all blue,red and green,

smeared in bile,blood and gore,a filth  that created him,

a whine so full of new life,

opens the child,his wondering eyes, ,

                     SEARCH

And again the same smoldering fire,myriads of it,heightened by winds,ready to burn,

he feels submerged in a chemical ready to scorch his intellect,

there he is,again,

in complete wilderness,infinite stretches of space and time,

 being sucked and swallowed by a million black holes...,

he searches blindly for people...,

saviours,lovers..,friends..,

slaps,blows,incredulous looks..,

he narrates his agony to get a clap from comparitively naive wolves..,

from the pack of hounds,THE  INTELLECTUAL ONES..,

 Scoffing sounds,words not knives,

wolves  only,none of his kind..., 

''Must write....,''he fills his pen with heart's blood,

''Too thick...needs dilution by tears...,''

Tears of every slave whipped,

Tears of every girl,burnt to ashes,condemned to be witch ,

He thudds his head hard on Berlin walls ,

OF hatred,caste and colour..,pounding it harder and harder ,

trembling,stumbling,panting and shuddering ,

he begins to write,

on the fabric woven of expectations of suffering and oppressed ,

a sudden crunch and the nib breaks ,

he gazes ,eyes not coals ,

hollering at deep  dome of sky,he asks in a shaky voice,  '' Why,me....,out of all,YOU choose me'',

  ''every day a crucification and then a resurrection,'' 

and then he looks at his pen,solemnly,gazes deep,

after a while fondles it like a loving mother,taking a deep breath,

he smiles,smiles like a man lost,   

craddling the pen into fingers frail,

like boughs of pine in eternal frost,

he stammers,a dying man,

''yes,love,we must..we will,plunge into seas of sorrow to get pearls of hope,words for you,''

''TONIGHT,I SHALL DIE AGAIN''

Author's Note

Reviews

[Emily B]

I die every time, a little, that I empty my words on an empty page. But my words are young and innocent and have many lessons to learn. And as they grow, they are re-born again and again. Each time these words are read they are born and die again content in the life cycle.

Wonderful thoughts on this fall evening.

[An owl on the moon]

This is such a vast write, covering life in the richness of the universe. You paint worlds and histories, giving us a glimpse of the eternal...

[Touché Armada]

I really liked this, its busy and fast and full of energy and I like that. There was one thing that didn’t sit with me well though yet no one has mentioned it but I have to I cant help myself and maybe its because I’m a mother and have been through the whole birth thing for real and than a couple of years latter I was fortunate to see my eldest nephew born but anyway what I’m getting to is the beauty of birth and lack of gore, to me gore is quite an ugly word something to be placed with the killing of something rather than the birth. But it’s just my opinion which is small obviously because everyone here over looked it or it sat just fine in their minds.

[.]

I honor your words here...the antithesis attitude to "why me", is one I hold close
we are fortunate to have words like yours

[Khaaki]

marhaba... a splendid poem...

[Bud]

I see no need to improve what is Perfect as is. This is an Astonishing piece of Talented Magnificence. This puts the whole notion of a writer, what makes them who they are, how they perceive, and just what sacrifice is given to lay claim to a title such as that in perfect clarity. Outstanding work of art, my friend! I applaud you with a standing ovation...

[mystic soul]

Awesome yaar!!! tume ye poem achi nai lagti??? i am amazed!! ye bahot achi h.... mujse chupa ke rakhi??? wonderful thought ..... bahot intellectual ho tum...

[Ellen Hammond]

This almost leaves me breathless. What a profoundly intense piece this is. Your metaphors, and imagery are are amazing. The first line had me nodding my head as no doubt anyone who has ever had writer's block would too. This stirs the heart and imagination. Very well thought out and I like the way you layed it out.

[Honeypot]

I loved the ending of this piece especially where it starts:

and then he looks at his pen,solemnly,gazes deep,
after a while fondles it like a loving mother,taking a deep breath,
he smiles,smiles like a man lost,
craddling the pen into fingers frail,
like boughs of pine in eternal frost,

You have a wonderful talent and very descriptive words.

[Bare trees]

Thank you for mentioning me SAHAR, this is an incredible piece with such emotion behind it. You are a gifted writer with the ability to move us with your words. You are an inspiration to us all and more people should read your writing. I will be sure to tell all my friends about you. Great job.