Thursday, March 4, 2010

Tale of a Morgue

1021…

lying at the extreme end

you must be thinking

of popcorns, Sherin, bolster home

or love in the time of cholera

oblivious of your present identity

you must be thinking

how beautiful your name sounded

when Sherin uttered

on a random night-out

whispers around

they said –

you are a medico legal case

1021-against it

the length of your body

breadth across the shoulder

weird mole near the left ear

finger impressions…

all recorded

in the unfriendly register

I wondered

is 1023 too is thinking

of popcorns…

4 comments:

bluelark said...

am at a loss for words... great is the least that i can say. after a long time read something so good and moving...
puts things in perspective...

random sampling.... said...

thanks...but so much praise...you are being too generous...edited the poem many times...was not happy with the flow...as I have always said its easy to think but when you sit to write word ceases to flow...

Sigrid Rahn said...

the silent space between 1021 and 1023 encompasses a lifetime... i wont try to measure that with my extended arms, but would rather hug myself to feel it somewhere in my own warmth...

random sampling.... said...

@Sigrid Rahn- well said...we cant measure it ever...