Tuesday, August 5, 2008

Mr.Me


He has seen them,
seen those wars build great legacies.
He felt her,
sensed her create songs.

He saw those little kids,
jumping on the
springy skeletal remains of the burnt couch.

His eyes have seen,
two trees,
fighting for space on the river side.
His heart has cried for the river,
that flowed in ambiguity.

***

One brilliant summer,
he was sent to the Bahamas
He swam with the wild men,
and he saw the love in the water.

He talked to himself,
named himself,
Mister Me.

***

His little home,
by the miner's den,
was a dream like figure.
It ate prostitutes by night,
and drank the men playing cards,
in the noon.
And,when Me was not somewhere else,
it smiled.

He was sent for the War,
came back injured;
brought home a bride as well.
He works in the Postal now.
she sells potatoes and herself,
in the market these days.

His children smoke,
in their garage,
and practise rock with the neighbourhood junkies.

They prefer the stone game as,
and still do not wear full length trousers on their own.

***

The burnt couch,
was brought,
(Me does not remember if it was bought),
from the Gulf country.

He lost half of his letters,
he works works as a gardener now.
His wife is in the same job.
His kids,
one ran away to the Rockies.
The other,
is sick now.

***

Obscure,
and caprice,
his jobs varied just like his mind.

***

Today,
his grave stone stands tall,
his house is a grave yard now,
peddlers meet here by night.

His wife died of the disease.
His son never returned.
The other one,
opened a rehab.

***

The grave reads,
"To Me".

15 comments:

Vinayak Sapru said...

that was... ahem... disturbing. vivid but somewhat weird.

Debs said...

@Vinayak

I have not quite finished this! :P

Debs said...

Now, it's.

Niits said...

clear darkness... man i hate u for writing dis.. but as usual.. d message was loud n so sharp it stung!

vinayak sapru said...

... and i thought my blog was random.

Shiri Basu Roy said...

This one is...well, kinda unsettling.


P.S. As my 20 years of experience speaketh,it invites to play the game of Life!

Debs said...

@SBR or Jhinka or Manali

What do you mean by 'unsetting'?

Shiri Basu Roy said...

unsetting aabar kothay likhlaam?? :O

Debs said...

I meant 'unsettling'

Dripto said...

way da go boyee! dats wat i call an unsettlingly superb potrayal of da "man who (finally) sold da world".
i just loved dese lines..
"His little home,
by the miner's den,
was a dream like figure.
It ate prostitutes by night,
and drank the men playing cards,
in the noon.
And,when Me was not somewhere else,
it smiled."
it was awesome!!

Debs said...

Why the Cobain connection, again?

zombey_-/\-_ said...

hey der!! amazing blog u've got!! nd super cool poem!!!
check out my blog...though am n amateur wen it comes 2 comparing our blogs...

Amrita K said...

It's verrrry disturbing..in other words so youu.

One of my favourites so far.

Good job.:)

Debs said...

@Mooo

:D

deepteshpoetry said...

wow!This one's a bit different 4m ur genre of poetry,ain't it?I liked the concept & the ending.don't 4gt me and do come 2 my blog as well!u r d 1 who 1st created it!remember?