Friday, April 26, 2013

I Remember Clearly! - Poem that Conjures Powerful Images

I remember;
I remember clearly
The day my father died.
He was hanging like a piece of cloth from the fan

I remember clearly -
The rancid stench of his stale liquor breath
That clings to him like a desperate child
Tickling my nose
And mocking his dead eyes into red.


I remember clearly
The turmoil and confusion.
My mother's eyes paled
And her lips trembled
As in front of her eyes her whole world came crashing down.
At first
Silent tears streamed down her face
And silence was dead
But with a low guttural sound
Like an injured animal
My mother fell down far below those numb suspended feet
And bawled her eyes out.

I remember clearly
The nonstop tears flowing down her face
Like the water leaking from an unclosed tap
All I could think to myself was
“My god!”
Her eyes are black and blue
Her eyes are black and blue cringing with the horror of reality
While she holds on to his legs and demands,
“Why the hell did you leave me without telling good-bye?”
Like a goodbye could have made me painless
Or not made her weep her heart away with his dead body.
I know that as well as I know my own name.

I remember clearly
To another time, another scene
My mother was sprawled on the cold, bare cement floor
Her lips bleeding
And her breath panting
Over her stood my father
His eyes filled with murder like a homicidal maniac
Holding a thick branch of bamboo
Soon to come crashing down on my mother…!
I closed my eyes -
I heard a noise;

SMACK!

Silence…
I opened my eyes
My mother sat in the corner
Hugging her own legs
While my father lay drunkenly unconscious
And the stick lay loosely gripped in his hand
This is what it was to live with a man
That god labelled as my “father”!

I remember clearly
The day my father died -
He was hanging like a piece of cloth from the fan.



Link:
http://chaithrapassion.wordpress.com/2013/01/18/i-remember-clearly/



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"If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away."

Henry David Thoreau