Outpost for Amy

Outpost for Amy

Those Tibetan prayer flags hung like colour laundry

Talk to spirits

and spread the blessings of Buddha

On the breeze

And down the wind swept cleavage of rocks and stones

Longing for the green far below-

Those stone mounds of the Tibetans

Are not graves, just markers for the spirits to follow-

Soaked in prayers

Like the flags

There is nothing to keep

They whisper-

Only memories and respect

And maybe-

Understanding.

II

Can we tell when we are straying

Far away from our moorings?

Can we feel the flutter of impending doom?

It's a hair on the back of the neck rising warning

A not another step command

No more pulling-

Or the bag will tear-

Everyone else hears it but not the doomed

It's not in the plan

But when the Amy Winehouse moment of no return

Comes

It comes at the end of time building for seven years.

The past tense came upon Amy like thugs in the dark

Threw its rough heavy blanket of oblivion over her head.

Then its all eulogies and pictures

The heartbreaking songs-

Too few but promising too much

Playing good to her broken doll body

Anima sucked out-

It's

The dead girl, the dead girl, no more defiance

And more flowers and thoughts about the dead girl.

A threshold is crossed

From where

There is

No coming back

From

Where

If you're awake Amy

You know it's

Irreparable.

You stop breathing, you turn cold

And then you're gone

One more step

And you lose yourself

One more

And you lose consciousness

And you leave the room without taking your feet.

The chapter closes

The book is done

Just where you leave it-

On its back or spine-

If there is more

Afterwards-

We don't

Know about it-

Even though we suspect

That you well might.

28th July 2011

Gautam Mukherjee

Copyright Gautam Mukherjee 2011. All rights reserved.