#Poetry ‘The Impoverished Poet’ by Fiza Pathan

The Impoverished Poet

By Fiza Pathan

I was selling my poems on the streets last night when I saw you pass by.

You look different now but my heart recognized you.

You were on the way to the station and were in such a hurry

That you didn’t recognize your old lover.

I lamented till tears brought me relief

My lover has left me behind and has moved on.

But I have stayed on the same path and so like the moth,

Which is burnt when it comes near the fire

I have been characterized as the sorrowful poet.

I will not curse you though my poverty tempts me to do so

I take out my frustration in my verses, would you care to read a few.

I won’t charge you a cent dear old lover

Nothing more should I have of yours

To make my ghost linger behind after death.

For I have treasured everything you have given me in the past

Your gold chain, your cigarette ash, your guitar strings and your kind words.

You moved on ahead to a wonderful world,

But here with your mementos will I stay

Watching the image of you freeze in my soul’s eye.

The night is cold but I linger on.

I’ve got to sell my poetry for a loaf of bread to eat,

You will be eating heartily with your wife who was my best friend

With love you will kiss her forehead and thinking of that I will weep.

Pray dearest, look upon the poet who loved you

Buy a couple of poems before I take shelter under a shanty house.

In the poor house of orphans, I live with a dog and a cat as family.

Please dear one-buy a couple of poems from your old lover.

Maybe it will remind you of a love gone by

And then you will look into my eyes and dazzle

My poor spirit all over again.

Image courtesy: http://www.morguefile.com/archive/display/10499

PIC1073118810.jpgBy kconnors

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