Poetry Is Dead Poem by Dr Kamran Haider Bukhari

Poetry Is Dead



Is this the end?
Is this the death?
Death has not always been an end
It may be a new beginning
It could have been a funeral
But it has to be the matrimonial
Of lust and hunger
Alas! Poetry is dead

She died last night
Of cerebral malaria
In the febrile fits
Of plagued identity
In the rigors and chills
Of seasonal insanity
In the aches and pains
Of bodily desires
Poetry died
Silently, invisibly
In the blast
Of this materialized world

Before sleeping in the robust arms
Of Dark Angel
She painfully uttered
A dying declaration
In her last muffled breaths

“I, the Cinderella of all Arts
Has had been mishandled
By the guardians and the messengers
They ignored the ‘FRAGILE’ sign
While shipping me from heart to heart
Mind to mind and soul to soul
I was broken into pieces
Even safeguarded
Inside the velvety red box
Wrapped with the white sheets
Of hundred percent pure cotton
Sealed with the melted wax
Of my frozen tears
Each piece of mine
Would live thereafter me
Eternally as a divine soul
In the juvenile bodies
Of so called amateurs
Who worshipped me since born
Like a goddess…”

Alas! Poetry is dead


Dec 20,2008

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Fiona Davidson 23 December 2008

Good read Syed...but poetry is alive and well... living here on Poem Hunter...thanks for sharing

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Seema Aarella 23 December 2008

She died last night Of cerebral malaria In the febrile fits Of plagued identity In the rigors and chills Of seasonal insanity In the aches and pains Of bodily desires Poetry died Silently, invisibly In the blast Of this materialized world' very well expressed feelings Kamran, with out good imagination and notions poetry is dying...poetry is just not some scribblings of an insane mind as some may say.....it takes a lot of thought and drains us emotionally.....like the labour pains a woman goes through....an idea concieves in mind and developes into a fully formed poem, and gets out of head and into the paper after painful labour.......its really that difficult to give birth to a good poem. And thanks to all those who genuinly take all the pains for the love of poetry....as long as the passion lives, the dreamer dreams, sorrows sing, pathos prevail and poets brood..........LONG LIVE POETRY! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

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Dr Hitesh Sheth 23 December 2008

He assembles vague paragraph and slices it into two half, so to fire it as a poem, and soar up his statistical graph. These are the lines from my poem, 'A Live Poetry Bomb', However mine is satire while tone of your's poem is melanocholic............................. But we live in a wrong times............. Anyway Good Work.....................

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Sulaiman Mohd Yusof 28 December 2008

Poetry is not dead but we are...............like a poison, we fill death.

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Maryam Khan 26 December 2008

Very honest and awesome form of written and very good keep up the awesome work! rgrds maryam

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Sathyanarayana M V S 24 December 2008

This is a stunning piece friend. So many great lines in it. But how can u say poetry is dead. Here is this ur poem, rejuvinating, reverberating poetry and its greatness.

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Kesav Easwaran 23 December 2008

true...poetry is dying many a deaths...juvenile to aging...in between lives short or long in the the heart of it's lovers...an impressive piece on an unusual theme...10

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Anjali Sinha 23 December 2008

poetry is dead in hands of novice poets who choked her breath and laid her on the death bed Nice poem but I think everyone should be encouraged in these trying times because poetry helps to vent out the inner feelings. We can say it is sort of catharsis. which helps to unburden the soul. Any way good write................... Anjali

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