Self-exiled, marooned,
I stare at the blank walls,
A strange darkness creeps in
With unfamiliar odours
As I miss familiar sounds
In an alien hotel room.
An absent clock ticks away
Uncounted hours pass,
Silently, like the surreptitious moves
Of a wary trespasser.
Strange sets of an alphabet of a myriad hue
March by,
In an unceasing procession
Of applause adulation and cheer…
Truth flowing with champagne in abandon.
Where are the letters of substance?
Marauding masks parade in stutters
Totter and falter…
A lonely deserted me, frantic,
Gropes for the masks I had put up on the wall…
Bare walls raze my palms.
The alphabet has departed,
And shall be found no more.
©Madhumita Ghosh 2012
A poem of disquiet,exuding a pervasive sense of threat.The unfamiliar room reminded me of “Key Largo” and the claustrophobic menace conveyed in its hotel setting.Does “Death” qualify as Poetry Noir? I think so.
Quite a picture you have portrayed here, Madhumita. Deep, melancholy.
Death here is the end of hope, frustration of the sensitive individual that follows a mindless, vain exhibition of vapid values and pseudo intellect by those with a gift of the gab. The hapless individual seeks a sanctuary within.
Thank you very much Rahul Aithal.
The mood here is definitely dark and one of disquiet. Thank you so much for your insightful observations on the poem.