Poem for Imran Saithna…

woods-road.jpg

DEATH CAME IN RATHER SHEEPISHLY

In memoriam Imran Saithna

Death came in rather sheepishly having just
taken someone quite young and in the

flush of life and sat down in front of me in an
overstuffed chair and took off his shoes showing

two identical feet with actually
thousands of toes and somehow between

each toe I saw Sahara sand-dunes as
if from the air and thick Amazonian

jungle with smoke-centered clearings and
people down below with happy children running naked

and every human environment in between
and death said nothing for a while to let me

get used to his presence and on
such short notice

“It’s not what you think at all really
it’s not what anyone thinks

The wise regard it as simply another door
on a straightforward trajectory while the

stupefied are terrified as if they’d be
leaving something sumptuous for something

either blank as paint or as tedious as choir practice
when it’s actually inexpressibly engaging in a

way no one experiences on this side where you’re
sitting now listening to me babble on”

He crossed his legs and I saw at his
knees sets of wing-like flutterings

that extended backwards through the material
furniture and walls into similar but

distinctly different dimensions

And the falling apart and reconstitution of his
face sometimes like a spring day in the

woods and sometimes like a wintry chill at the
arctic top of the world but in all cases

something both familiar and strange
and then he saw me seeing and for a

moment came behind my seeing so that
I saw things here through death’s eyes for a split second

the transparency of interrelated contingencies
the way things come together in a kind of trance

the really drab colors of everything on this side
and our plucking at rainbows

and how young or old is truly only relative with
some of the youngest in years being the oldest

and vice versa and he settled back and
back into the chair through dynasty after

dynasty to Egypt and beyond and I
saw how death was an essential

ingredient to our acceleration onward
and a true disentangling but only at the time

we’re called and not at any other which
only makes entanglings greater

as in suicide or its pseudo-glamorous
perhaps slower but self-destructive variants

“The young man from the car-crash” he
said looking up at me and I saw

great golden canyons open and close in his
eyes

“He was done here and is now on a serious
diplomatic mission having left only

sweet memories behind him which for a time
makes everyone he left behind want to be

more like him
so he’s on two diplomatic missions in fact

there where he can’t be seen
and here in his echoing after-effect

where he can”

1/24 (at Fajr)

______

It’s interesting how sometimes we can be so affected by the death of someone we hardly knew. Imran contacted me by email a year or so ago about poetry, and we met only perhaps three times in all. But his death has been with me since I heard. And I’ve read what others have said, with particular sensitivity by Yoshi Misdaq on DeenPort’s messages, and have thought that, again, what people must be feeling in Iraq, where statistically every family has lost someone, and the web of relationships between people is now so touched with blood…

About danielabdalhayymoore

Poet, artist, collagist, publisher, hoping to save a little bit of the world through ecstatic utterance... ordered in balanced lines and unpremeditated images...
This entry was posted in POEMS. Bookmark the permalink.

8 Responses to Poem for Imran Saithna…

  1. “and the web of relationships between people is now so touched with blood… ”

    …not to mention torn by hatred and suspicion real or baseless. What sin can be greater than starting a civil war, turning neighbor against neighbor, friend against friend, brother against brother?

    Like

  2. sf says:

    Alhamdulillah!
    What a soul-touching tribute for Br. Imran! And the painful truth of the ongoing unjust war and its misery!
    He was a real gem, a person of exemplary character and will be greatly missed. Even without knowing him, his death seems so close to my heart, having suddenly lost a young brother, a couple of months back.

    Br. Abdal-Hayy, it’s touching to note how Br. Imran‘s last post was dedicated to you…..it speaks volumes on how much he looked up to you and adored you.
    And now what endless joy your beautiful thoughts(here and in all ur comments) in appreciation for him might have brought, only Allah knows (the angels must have conveyed Br. Imran already).
    May Allah (SWT) bless his soul and reward you in abundance, empowering your pen ever more. Ameen

    Like

  3. ibnZiad says:

    I have been deeply touched by this beautiful brothers departure. I was reading his poetry, recently, and then the next day i here, he has left for His Lord..

    May Allah accept him, and make Him be raised with those that smile, ameen.

    Beautiful poem, dear Abdal-Hayy.

    Like

  4. KC says:

    “He crossed his legs and I saw at his
    knees sets of wing-like flutterings”

    ~~beautiful. I enjoyed this poetry very much! Thanks.

    K

    Like

  5. yasmine says:

    Such a beautiful, beautiful poem. Thank you for this.

    The last couple of days, I’ve been reading people’s reflections on Imran (and there are so many!), and it’s helped me grieve a little less at the suddenness of his death, when I see how people are remembering him with so much grace and faith.

    He was so humble in everything he did. But I hope he realizes a little bit of how much he touched and inspired all of us.

    Like

  6. Pingback: In memory of Imran Saithna, rockstar extraordinare: Bleed the pen, burn the paper, dry those tears of eternal sorrow

  7. Syed Ahmed Peeran says:

    This poem …………………… Imran was more than a friend to me he was like family. He was my team member during the earthquake operations in Kashmir. I still dont believe his death

    Like

  8. SA says:

    this is actually a masterpiece, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it and the entire style is alien to me, yet I understood every part of this poem intimately: something which i can only put down to the overpowering sincerity and truth of the sentiments expressed, which are its focus.

    I have recently found myself, again, in the same situation you were in when you wrote this. and, again, i see exactly what you wrote of. reading this poem again has helped.

    thanks.

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s