by Rimi Phukan
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
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This poem is a sacred testimony of "hurt" sentiments.When you realise, it's too late to amend a wrong, you put on the garb of a winner, a methodical defensive stand to keep your "hurt heart" within wraps of some strong words one can utter. A strong head nearly controls a vulnerable heart but nevertheless, feelings are exposed...
Look! how well I go with your flow
How I bided to see through you
I now enter, what you call “the other world”
You sure can understand what I open up to-
It’s a boundless, seamless openness
You fell and I faltered
I have here my dying art-NO you can’t DIE
Why? You are staring at the other end of my passion
Twice I let you become the lyrics of an old rhapsody
Allowed your words slowly to nibble my lips
Seen your fairness escape your fine skin.
Oh! You still believe in what was not true
The malady exits through your soul and enters mine
Do you know how much pain it causes?
I live for my pocketful of dreams you graze in them:
One life is not enough for me to raise you
I read you often between the lines of your forehead
You offered me yourself in an original manuscript
You might be wondering a man’s wonder
Perhaps, a woman can be as crazy as a man
You do have a way with others- and me
I have seen you alter your profile
Each time you enter a different form, tearing me asunder:
This is a professional autopsy of human merit.
I won’t come back to this world for nothing,
A philosophical resignation or a sweet surrender!