A Paralyzed Man

A prolific writer inspired by environment and insights. He writes poems and essays and articles.

Prelude

The pain of a paralyzed individual, regardless of its cause, is unfathomable. Many of these paralyzed individuals see and hears everything around, yet cannot respond physically, but what goes inside such a helpless man? Can we truly touch the depth of his agony? Perhaps no single poet or poetry can, yet we try sincerely to empathize, like the materials of the wooden chair that which is probably the closest thing that he cradles him every day.

A Paralyzed Man

The withering phoneme suffocates

In the abyss of his own existence

Drowning beneath the wailing mumbles

It's not a swarm of buzzing bees

Nor the silence of morning breeze

But some unspoken murmuring bubble afloat

On the tears of his two helpless eyes

The armrest cradles the listless arms

Like a mother holding a listless child

The rocking chair awaits every day for an eternity

Not a single motion of agitation

The wooden material talks to the cells of his soul, and yet

The paralyzed man never moves

But oh yes! his tears move – a slowly growing creek

From the canthus of his dwindling eyes

Makes its way to the abyss of his own existence

Adds every day to the briny ocean buried in his chest

The wave never heard or seen

The withering phoneme suffocates

In the abyss of his own existence

Drowning beneath the wailing mumbles

And, unspoken murmuring bubble afloat.

The withering phoneme suffocates

In the abyss of his own existence..

...The paralyzed man never moves

© 2021 Muhammad Mizanur Shuvra