Thursday, June 18, 2009

The Photograph

Matt-finish, black and white
young man, child astride,
trousers flared, collar wide,
a grin adorned by pencil-line

The old man's favorite photograph
not for his child's memories
nor for youth he left behind
yet he stares and stares and cries
to see that faded photograph
the only one he misses most
the one who's missing in that pose
the one who cracked that silly joke
just before the flash and smoke
the one who clicked the photograph
the one who passed on to the ghosts

-Amit

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

Death of a Liar

He closes his eyes
and stares at a familiar scene
his 6 year old self, squeaky clean,
waving back to his mom and dad
entering school, first tie he had

Scenes rush by
the young child is child no more
a boy aged 13 sitting in at his proud father's store
lady-shoppers fussing over the winsome lad
as he shyly scribbles out their bills on a pad

The years fast-forward now
the boy has grown,
hot job in tow,
all of 43, suave CEO
on a magazine,
a loving wife, 3 kids
complete the scene

He opens his tired eyes
a life lived full, he smiles

and then laughs at the truth
a wasted youth,
born an orphaned lad
always making up his parents,
and the tie he never had
working as a coolie all his life at a store
always pining to move up to the pad
He'd hated his wife and cheated on her,
and guilt-laden, drunk away the little he had
an outstanding loan and a debt he'd incurred
had since broken his spirit and driven him mad

As he lay now thinking of his time gone by
a life of regret and happiness denied
he blocks out the life that was supposed to flash by
for the last time the old man dreams up his lie

-Amit