My friend lost the pitch
Amid the flight towards the horizon
Fell down with broken wings
Never to fly any more here
Perhaps, his greedy to capture the top
Or to meet with the master of all
Made him close the filter eyes
Never to open again here
He was gentile with smooth heart
Like of coconut; hard out and soft inside
And was jack of all trades, lived with us
Putting an envy in all our hearts
To praise him with pen making the mistake
Or keeping the lid on his vast good deeds
So, no more… all good things he left here
Make him the great and still living
But, it was painful and sensational
And after all, a warning to me and all
To prepare for the journey of soul
With less stick on age or fitness
Death is somewhat like coconut tree
All its flowers are not to be coconut
Some may fall before the maturity
And untimely come to an end
May God rest his soul in eternal peace
JAVED ALI AZAD
2 comments:
Dear Friend,
Your poem has got its own way to creat and generate thoughtful mind on aim and destination of life, which will ultimately guide a fellow to the mystery of life and its creator.
Thanks.... my dear.. thanks...
Jabbar
Dear poet desolate,
This is an entirely different feeling in English poetry; perhaps something which is no less closer to the platonic way of putting it in the good old days. The clarity of diction, regularity in the irregular surge of emotions and to top it all, an irresistible desire to surpass the evil temptations which have taken his friend away from the poet are all conspeciously striking.
It reminded me of one of the oldies i came across in a moth-eaten book in my shelf whose poet was beaming maliciously quite like ours
" You took my pleasure out for a ride,
Leapt at the sight of its broken wings; an age-ful of them,
Unmindful of what my friend could fetch to my devastated heart !
Little did the Gods devise to bring Him back !
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