his gnarled hands clutched the crutches
yet he fell on that crumbling stone wall
crumpling on to the brown earth
it felt so natural, laying there
almost soothing his frayed nerves
for so long those have been spookily ubiquitous
looking up at the dark soulless night
no more did he feel like a burden to his family
31 comments:
poignant and very well written.
Excellent and powerful.
A strong poem, and sad witness to a difficult life...
Oh! how expressive ... felt like watching him fall!!
Good one :)
Nicely done! It's reality by the line.
Very natural. Good one.
oh! a sad tale... almost want to wait for the 'happy' that is to come ...
Poignant and powerful piece.
Powerful one here.
Painted a very clear picture in my mind.
True so powerful as always know you are writing
i love leaving the world behind, looking up into the night. i like how that freedom is expressed here.
I would like to know more about this person as a younger man and why he was a burden to his family.
what sad thoughts, makes me think of soldiers and how they lose their way after coming back from the devastation of war and how torn they must feel about coming back
Like the collection of sounds in clutched, crutches, crumbling, crumpling.
I have lost family members who were ill or elderly and I believe they felt this way: it felt natural to let go.
Thanks for coming by.
I really liked this!
coming to one's end is a perfectly sad ending when looking up alone... beautiful g....
Very powerful poem!
very nice words....like my poem.....it could remind me of Havana
nice....rem inds me of Havana
brilliant!
Gautami,
I especially like the first four lines. They really set the scene.
Tschuess,
Chris
This was very thought-provoking, and a good use of the prompts.
I like this. Left me a little bittersweet.
I'm just reading The Collected Poems of (the late) Raymond Carter.
This reminds me of those.
I request u to publish ur poems in the form of an ebook, if u havn't already done so. U can find details regarding that on woork dot blogspot dot com.
Love the echo of "crumbling" and "crumpling"!
But Gautami, what the heck does it mean to YOU? Yeah, it's beautiful verse and all.
But is it just out here for people to critique as a literary piece?
I want to know what you're talking about. Is that so strange?
No Chris, it is not so strange. I am glad you asked. Maybe I should have explained in my post. But I seldom do.
No, I did not write it for literary critiquing.
In India, old people have to fend for themselves. Most are abandoned by their families. There are no old age homes to speak of. At least, not for the very poor. There are that many NGOs either.
This in fact came from a very tragic incident. We used to see an old man on crutches sitting near our school, selling small goodies. He was too old but there was no one to take care of him. His son and daughter-in-law had driven him out of his home. He used to sleep near that wall, where he sold his stuff. One day, he wasn't there. He had died during the night, near that very same wall. Even then his son did not come to claim him.
This came out of that. And believe me, this is not just one such happening.
Wow! That was great! It brought back memories of my father who struggled using a walker in his final years.
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