I dreamt, that I had died, but thankfully, got up breathing. And in the morning, these words just wrote themselves.
Please, please, let me at least switch off the gas burner
Before I turn in, eternally.
Wordless, smile less, passionless, breathless.
There is a leakage in the washroom
The hem of that new curtain is undone
Yes, there is dust on the mantelpiece
Yes, that reminds me, I was too greedy
When the maid asked me for something
I looked the other way
Absolutely forgetting that she is so needy.
Yes, let me confess, let me give some last minute instructions
Then I will be done oh forget the syntax the grammar
I have no time
There is a new packet of cornflakes in the pantry
Yes, I am making haste, just one more sec
And my poetry, I never had a very high opinion of it,
But still, there is one more manuscript lying around
It will rain today, I bet.
Just title it, and send it off.
Still hoping to hear a whisper,
“It’s not your time yet.”
And my swan song, ‘When Night Fell’
Just the last chapter left
I am carrying the denouement with me
See what you can do about it
Yes, yes, I will miss you too.
No time left to rage against the dying of the night
I am rambling, I know
Goodbye, Goodnight, please don’t mourn
My sudden slipping into the unknown.
Toodleoo, here I go, on my way
Just put a brave face and carry on Tomorrow, I believe, will be a new dawn.
SEPT/OCT 2017 AUTHOR OF THE MONTH at Spillwords.com
An academician, essayist-novelist -poet, I have an insane passion to write about everything under the sun or the moon! Some of my books like Ballad of Bapu: [a poetic biography of Mahatma Gandhi] and Where are the lilacs? [a collection of 111 peace poems] have been internationally acclaimed. Flights from my terrace is my ebook of 58 essays on Smashwords .