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

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About Madhumita Ghosh

Studied at Jadavpur University, Calcutta, India. M.A. M.Phil Ph.D in English. Associate Professor in a degree college affiliated to Calcutta university. Love reading, writing poems and short stories. Translation is another passion Have translated English Romantic poetry to Bengali and Tagore poems to English.

4 thoughts on “Death

  1. Louis Kasatkin

    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.

  2. Madhumita Ghosh

    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.

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