[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.

This entry was posted in Poetry on by .

About Santosh

An educationist with a passion for writing , having published some novels for young adults, some essays and some poems. My poetic biography of Mahatma Gandhi will soon be published .

2 thoughts on “Breathless

  1. suzette portes san jose

    like the thief in the night, we never knew when it strikes… mostly is when we are past asleep…and with so much unfinished business… 🙂

Leave a Reply