Half a Night

For those who don`t care about poetry, here is something I got in the mail...

Subject: FW: Mr. Perfect....


Recently a ``Husband Super Store`` opened where women could go to choose a husband from among many men. It was laid out in five floors, with the men increasing in positive attributes as you ascended.

The only rule was, once you opened the door to any floor, you HAD to choose a man from that floor; if you went up a floor, you couldn`t go back down except to leave the place, never to return.

A couple of girlfriends went to the shopping centre to find some husbands...


First floor

The door had a sign saying, ``These men have jobs and love kids.``

The women read the sign and said, ``Well, that`s better than not having a job or not loving kids, but I wonder what`s further up?``


So up they went.

Second floor


The sign read, ``These men have high paying jobs, love kids, and are extremely good looking.``

``Hmmm,`` said the ladies, ``But, I wonder what`s further up?``


Third floor

This sign read, ``These men have high paying jobs, are extremely good looking, love kids and help with the housework.``

``Wow,`` said the women, ``Very tempting.``

But there was another floor, so further up they went.

Fourth floor

This door had a sign saying ``These men have high paying jobs, love kids, are extremely good looking, help with the housework and have a strong romantic streak.``

``Oh, mercy me,`` they cried, ``Just think what must be awaiting us further on!

So up to the fifth floor they went.

Fifth floor

The sign on that door said, ``This floor is empty and exists only to prove that women are impossible to please.``

#10 Farzana

I didnt get it initially

But, now, (almost) everything falls into place

What did you have in mind with

It takes a lifetime
to realise
obsessions are not certainties.

Its beautiful no doubt!

P.S: I tried to read between the lines and NOW `m really curious in knowing the writer`s conclusion to it :)

Powerful. Intimidating.

..... i knew there was a reason why i never liked poetry......... finally, it has managed to ruin what little sex life i had!............ thanks!

I love this poem. It`s one of those read and read again ones, that make sense in pieces.

I wish you would and I wish you wouldn`t explain it your way. You know? I really wish you wouldn`t, I guess, in the end. Because now I have dead girl in my head and I want to figure out what to do with her.

Hi Farzana . . .

a) When naked, I don`t think one can usually hang around looking for shadows. More pressing things at ., . .hhhm . . . hand.

b) On the death bit, maybe you can consider accepting re-incarnation as a mantra, and also get to choose your gender next time around?

Which brings me to q of the day . . . if reborn, would you like to be:-

a) the same gender?
b) another gender?
c) exchange gender with your spouse/partner?
d) be the same gender as your spouse/partner?

Damn, where`s that poll when you need it the most?

yours respectfully,

``can do better``.

A few hours ago, a line came to mind: ``His shadow loomed over my naked body.``

Now, what could this mean? Several things, mainly the obvious. But for me it was a simple reality...I was in the shower, and outside the window there was this worker (plastering of the building facade is going on) doing his job; despite the shut ventilators and a curtain his shadow fell on the glossy tiles. And that line came to mind...

Therefore, I wonder whether I should explain this poem `my way` or let the readers reach their own conclusions. Shall think about it...and will certainly post some individual replies. For the moment, thanks for the comments.

PS: How I wish those who did not ``get it`` interacted here and made things more interesting:-)

F

Farzana, great imagery in your beautiful peace. Wow!

Back in 1996, I wrote a poem which was posted on chowk under the title Life Is A Hitch. At that time, Umair Khan and Safwan Shah did not allow the word ``Bitch`` on chowk; so they changed it to ``Hitch``. Wow, times-are-a-changin` ! I have waited eight long years to re-post my original poem with the original title :)- Here It Is:

Life is a Bitch

Life is a bitch
for all its caress!
Flirting it does but then
gives away nothing;
for all the groping (!)
But then what else to do,
`cept grope!

Vain they say this life is all about, still
its` illusory beckoning keeps us tied.
For all the groping, one gets hold of some
handful of straws or some rocks.
Once in a while, one comes across a gem,
somewhere! Silver lines appear, but
once near it, the shadow falls on it.
Try to be detached,
it `d trail behind you!

Rock like I withstand,
the passionate onslaught it makes.
Angry bitch it is, it turns
its back on me.
A volcano erupts within,
leaving me bruised.

My resilience keeps me intact,
a doggedness possess;
I climb this rocky terrain,
One step at a time.
Sands of life are slippery,
it slides me down by ten pace!

Like a fish I try to slip,
from the hold it has on me,
but like a shark it tries
to pounce and swallow me;
with a ferocity
I know not `n ne`er knew!

I tried to flee, like a swift, the bird;
like a child, throws a stone to hurt.
Undaunted I flew higher,
like a falcon it hovered around me!

Bitter truth dawned on me!
The more you run,
the more it chases;
the more you drown,
the more it chokes;
Bitch, no doubt,
but leash is in you hand!

Never ever drown `n get intoxicated in it;
just keep a distance `n flirt with it.
Realized my soul when I looked LIFE
in the face;
She smiled benevolently
and healed my soul.

Bleeding...

eek..that was a little gruesome, but beautifully told!

Farzana:

It`s spooky but nice. I like it.

Rashid Mughal

Good Poem.
Unfortunately the reality is not that poetic..kind of feels dirty to like literature based on suffering

Thats why I support gay marriages!
Never sleep with lesbians!!!

The cries of a man hater!!!!!
Right out of gay literature.

Ferzi:
As I read this beautiful poem I was immediately reminded of a recent poem Pass me the blanket and if you forgive me I will change some words there and reply to this?


Half a soul

flame
over the grave
of the fallen lover

flame
over the torch
heralding an event
or flickering a path

flame
of mirth and joy
in the child’s eyes
in beloved’s smile

usher in hope
reflect warmth

the flame
in her* eyes
burns coldly
this flame is sans soul

(her=the protagonist in your poem)
as for the you in your poem...cannot add to what you have written...

bspnd,

t

delicate, sensuous, charged, powerful, sweaty, even sexy.