Sayeed Abubakar

Gold Star - 16,570 Points (21 September 1972 / Jessore / Bangladesh)

Mad: 4 - Poem by Sayeed Abubakar

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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