Phases of life
I have no substantial proof
of whether I was living
or dead within the body
that I, now, call "my mother".
How could there be ambiguity
about my own state?
It, often, renders me numb,
I gaze at the nothingness and contemplate,
Such obscurity!
Let's say, I was alive then,
Just like I am alive now,
I don't remember a thing, how,
Of a place where I stayed for months,
Nine or maybe ten?
This apart, nothing comes back
To me even of my initial days,
months and years,
After I was unpacked
from the sack!
How desperate are my tries!
I, even, close my eyes
to get flashes of the time
that my existence belies.
All in vain,
Nothing yields,
Pacing up and down
Within my brain
Are but blank, vast fields.
Wait! people assume- blankness
Is a token of death.
So, should I walk along
that herd and believe
Those days forlorn
Were the days of lifelessness?
If I'd been dead long ago,
How did I come alive?
Not just alive but see, I thrive!
What made death me forgo?
Nobody can rise from grave,
They say,
Except the Holy Son made out
His way,
And, I am not the holy son,
Only a holy spirit poor,
Which means it was not
In endless death I lay.
This is a new idea of life,
I am sure!
A life where the memory
doesn't endure.
A phenomenon going
Beyond the boundary
Of the mind pure.
Are there multiple phases of life,
Just like the moon
Which plays with light left and right?
Phases arranged in succession-
one after the other in a stair-flight.
Leading one level to another,
then another, then another.
Beginning from somewhere
that we tag ' the first' here,
Stopping at a place there
Could be called 'the last' stair.
There is no reason to trust
This phase as well. Why?
For, they say, after I die
Everything wipes out
Just like fire doesn't remember
that it was, once, burning
after it dies out.
Ashes remain for others to see,
The black, burnt, patch
is left behind for others
To remind of the fire
That went on a spree.
What I could safely put to test
Here is one thing- death!
Is it really the cessation
Or the inauguration
Of yet another level?
Who knows-just a quest.
To graduate to the next,
I leave behind everything must,
Not just the friends, family and the body,
But also the memory of mine shoddy
Which has so far been cloddy
and so will it be in my next!
About this poem
In this poem, the poet, unable to recall anything of his past, puts a question mark on the very idea of life and death. He undermines the role of memory in determination of each of these two states. The poem ends toying with the idea of rebirth.
Written on February 02, 2023
Submitted by gautamankit26 on February 14, 2023
Modified on March 14, 2023
- 2:37 min read
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Quick analysis:
Scheme | XABC BDXDB EFFGE HXXXH IIXI JKXJK GLXXXG MNNM XOPOQXXO RSBSABS RXTQT CCUXUU VWWPCAP BXXCB XLQQXX YVBBBY |
---|---|
Closest metre | Iambic trimeter |
Characters | 2,302 |
Words | 521 |
Stanzas | 16 |
Stanza Lengths | 4, 5, 5, 5, 4, 5, 6, 4, 8, 7, 5, 6, 7, 5, 6, 6 |
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"Phases of life" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 13 Jun 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/153414/phases-of-life>.
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