Tuesday, February 10, 2009

One Last Time

One Last Time
by Damyanti Ghosh

Think black thoughts,
black-sad, sad-black,
the soothing color of oblivion.

Take yourself out on a ride,
ride on air, on emptiness,
sit on your mind's eye.

Become the stubbed out
butt-end of a cigarette
spiraling down
from hundreds of floors,
down, down, down,
always down.

Twirl in the air,
enjoy the breeze, hope
for a fanning of the fire
that was stamped out of you
some time ago.

Though it is not the fire
to hoist a hot-air balloon,
it is still a little warmth,
a flickering of life
before you fall, softly,
with a whisper,

on concre
te slabs.

© 2009 Damyanti Ghosh

Listen to this poem:

Damyanti Ghosh: These lines came to from the picture, which I was a using as a writing prompt. The idea was to try and imagine the free-fall of a suicidal jump, the haze and the confused thoughts which lead to a harsh, violent end.

Damyanti Ghosh is an established freelance writer, writing for various websites and magazines, who is now trying to figure out a way to step into fiction: a field she has touched before, but never professionally. She has written poetry for quite some time now, and hopes to become a writer some day: not just a published author, but a real writer in the truest sense of the word.

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