Poetry: K. Pankajam


You Start ageing slowly

You start ageing slowly
if you forget to smile at the flowers
Not when the gray waves
Start to befriend forgetfulness.
If you can’t sing with the winds
You start ageing slowly
Neither on your upper lips sinking
Nor facial muscles sagging.
If you fail to enjoy the music of earth
You start ageing slowly
Don’t link it with your impaired hearing.
You start ageing slowly
If you can’t appreciate humour,
The punch lines for jokes,
Not when your citadel of decrees crumble.
When the child in you loses its thrill
You start ageing slowly.
Don’t blame it on drooping eyelids
Or the crow’s feet around your eyes.
If your friends’ circle dwindles
And you embrace loneliness
As you cross the half century mark
You start ageing quickly.
Drunk on youth
you may try to plump up your face
to bolster facial muscles,
lift the gloom and doom
but age might not be your friend
if you neglect its innate wishes.


Someone unseen
plays with invisible threads
to bring strangers
who have never seen before,
never known before
never heard before
meet surprisingly,
tie them up
for designed purposes
without their notice
without their knowledge
with unyielding knots
that do not fall apart,
disengage or disintegrate
and make them perform like puppets.
I call it providence.


It came flinging his memory down.
Stuck in the intricate knots inside
past got pushed away somewhere, forever,
tears proved he was still sensitive.
As logic should have been
when past ceases to exist
present becomes strong,
which proved wrong.
Day and night were to him alike
rather he loved darkness.
He withdrew, crushed at times
became sad, sick and lost.
Grieving in the throes of Dementia
his cognitive senses, dull,
exiled to a globule world
and he was never the same.

We were together, yet apart
lived in different worlds,
where, neither he nor we
bore witness to each other.
When something goes in shreds
bangs its head upon my senses
I hold poetry to my chest
to heal my losses, time to bear out.

1 comment :

  1. Enjoy the read of these wonderful poems by K.Pankajam. Each is very thought-provoking, "You Start aging slowly" speaks of 'but age may not be your friend/if you neglect its innate wishes'; "Providence" strikes a beautiful chord with the first four lines ...'Someone unseen/plays with invisible threads/to bring strangers/face-to-face...' and in "Dementia" the last four lines in the last stanza ...'When something goes in shreds/bangs its head upon my senses/I hold poetry to my chest/to heal my losses, time to bear out.' leave me feeling a sense of guilt as I write my own poems.


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