My Dead Poem!

As my life nears a conjugal obsession with death
I thought of writing few more poems on dead
May be, this way, I will hold on to live
Another thousand year, within myself
Stalking the death itself!

Everybody says I am a dead poet
But I think, my poems are alive
Much more alive than myself
My poems affirm a recourse on living
My poems challenge lives
My poems fear death
What else do I need from my poems
They are unto themselves
In dead and birth
I only write the way it comes
Even in dead thinking about another birth!

You may seek a sacrament
Saying these lines, these very lines are pitiless whims of a mortal
Or you may even think them to be a portentous shadow of my lies
But I carry them wherever I go
In my heart, knowing good enough that someday I will die
So what’s the harm writing few more dead poems
While I am all alive.

***(August 08, 2009)***