Poetry Section
OF POEM
I weave a poem
And wear it on my naked self ;
How does it look
I ask someone ?
He ignores me and answers me not,
Why don’t you answer ? I ask people,
They look at me with glazed eyes :
I can’t break the cover in their eyes !
I request someone to touch it ;
Ah ! His hands are dirty,
My apparel fresh like a new-born !
I request tenderness ! I hurt him !
In desperation, I look towards the Master-Weaver :
He smiles and sends His expert :
Here comes the expert,
Armed with radiant smile and cleanest fingers !
With practiced ease,
He starts breaking threads
One by one,
Till I stand naked before his gaze !
A servant approaches with a coarse cloth ;
Asks me to put it on :
I obey, mingle with the crowd
And proceed away from the loom !
This poem by Mr. Ashok Sharma, was first published in The Hitavada, Nagpur in 1991. We are publishing it on this Website,
to reawaken the muse in our friend which has hybernated for pretty long now! This, we hope will encourage others of the ilk to follow suit. All the best !
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