Jayanta Mahapatra

(22 October 1928 - / Cuttack / India)

Her Hand - Poem by Jayanta Mahapatra

The little girl's hand is made of darkness
How will I hold it?

The streetlamps hang like decapitated heads
Blood opens that terrible door between us

The wide mouth of the country is clamped in pain
while its body writhes on its bed of nails

This little girl has just her raped body
for me to reach her

The weight of my guilt is unable
to overcome my resistance to hug her

Comments about Her Hand by Jayanta Mahapatra

  • Mohammed Asim Nehal (10/20/2016 2:48:00 PM)

    A bitter truth so well written...I liked it, thanks for sharing. (Report) Reply

    0 person liked.
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  • Gobinda Sahoo (10/21/2015 7:55:00 PM)

    Imagery used in the poem is appealing. The poet's concern for the destitute is the theme. (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, March 29, 2012

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