Sayeed Abubakar

Gold Star - 12,307 Points (21 September 1972 / Jessore / Bangladesh)

Mad: 4 - Poem by Sayeed Abubakar

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Sometimes he cannot recognize himself.
He cannot recognize his own hands, own legs, own body,
even his own voice. It seems to him that he is an alien,
a man of different language who has been haunting him
for twenty four hours like a shadow.

Sometimes he calls himself by his own name.
It seems to him that thousand years have already passed.
Has his corpse been rotten then, or has he himself
been a mummy? Is he in a dwelling house or in a museum?

All on a sudden, he shouted loudly saying 'Thief! Thief! '
Saying 'Police! Police! ', he caught red-handed
his one hand by the other hand and said to himself, 'Who are you
at this inopportune moment here? ' And instantly he releases
that hand, nobody knows why, getting afraid very much.

Topic(s) of this poem: satire, satire of social classes


Comments about Mad: 4 by Sayeed Abubakar

  • Hazel Durham (12/19/2012 7:33:00 AM)


    A frightening tale of not knowing who you are, brilliantly written! (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, June 14, 2012

Poem Edited: Wednesday, October 21, 2015


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