I know this friend, he preaches the Gospel
I care two hoots, I am far from Godliness and goodness
That comes with it, or within, without, whatever
But yes, a friend for sure, and this I remember
The day we first met, I had punched him in his face
And he did me one too, mistaken identities, we exclaimed
I asked if he wasn't preaching, he said to God fearing indeed, not the very devil or its kin
My kinship doesn't seem fair, for I am no devil, there is none I had said
He was asking for help, for a woman in pain
And apparently I was supposedly God-sent, he exclaimed
Pity, I had none, not for her, nor him
I have popcorn to eat at the end of this world
As he says may not be in fire, I hope he is wrong too
Mr. preacher friend
Last week when he fell down the stairs, I cooked for him and fed him
He made me read the Bible and I read it in funny tones, impersonating a myriad of film personas in the Mumbai film world
He had seen them, preached to most, drugged out and drunk with a few too. I asked him about the drugs
But they are not God-fearing men, the scale we measure isn't alike, akin to noble
I asked him if he had a scale for me too, he mocked and lent me the metal ruler that carpenters use
I knocked his knuckles a few times with that, that could have hurt
He declined if it did, somewhere there and then we became friends
Cut to now, he is dying of smoking, we were cooking some duck
It wasn't me and the Lord sure was not in town, I am sure
But this friend, a brother who has christened a few kids, shows labored breath
I ask him gently, "So the white gowns, or are you going down under, to wear reds?"
The porn sure showed they wore red, the evil women hot like Thai chillies
He retorts and laughs and I hear him whisper, gently into my ear, a blessing and a thank you
I shrug my shoulders, and knowing I am detached, change his soiled sheets and underwear
Soap him gently and sponge him off
He then hands me his book, that looks holy. Dear me, it is full of drawings of me in church, and the hospital
There is one of me carrying an oldie, giving CPR, chest compressions though, Something though is important, I mutter, holding his hand suddenly
Let him leave, as he smiles and closes his eyes, utters "Ashes to ashes, Dust to dust"
I came to find you to say
That is the message for you, you won't find God anywhere
Become akin, not with pride, but by your own breath as you heal those, he hands me the Red Cross patch I had made and gifted last week when telling him I want to be like Florence Nightingale
He snickers and slithers into his sleepless slumber, his hand resting on mine as the red in the patch seems brighter in this dark moment
Go Florence, I tell myself
I close his eyes, lift him and walk to his altar.
Bye God, I got people to look after, I utter and leave the church door quickly turning to wave to my friend who has gone.
------------------------
Based on a friend's feedback I got this edit done .
1) Shape/divide into parts or sections because i feel it moves like it
2) Some lines have confusing meanings - recast them to make the meaning clearer. Sometimes 2 or more short staccato lines separated by appropriate punctuation is better than a long winded line what's weighed down.
------------------------
I know this friend, he preaches the Gospel
I care two hoots, I am far from Godliness and goodness
That comes with it, or within, without, whatever
But yes, a friend for sure, and this I remember
The day we first met; I had punched him in his face
And he did me one too, mistaken identities, we exclaimed
I asked if he wasn't preaching, he said to God fearing indeed,
Not the very devil or its kin
My kinship doesn't seem fair, for I am no devil,
"There is none" I had said
He was asking for help, for a woman in pain
And apparently, I was supposedly God-sent, he exclaimed
Pity, I had none, not for her, nor him
I have popcorn to eat at the end of this world
As he says may not be in fire, I hope he is wrong too
Mr. preacher friend
Last week when he fell down the stairs,
I cooked for him and fed him
He made me read the Bible and I read it in funny tones,
Impersonating a myriad of film personas in the Mumbai film world
He had seen them, preached to most,
Drugged out and drunk with a few too.
I asked him about the drugs
But they are not God-fearing men,
The scale we measure isn't alike, akin to noble
I asked him if he had a scale for me too,
He mocked and lent me the metal ruler that carpenters use
I knocked his knuckles a few times with that,
That could have hurt
He declined if it did,
Somewhere there and then we became friends
Cut to now, he is dying of smoking,
We were cooking some duck
It wasn't me and the Lord sure was not in town,
I am sure
But this friend, a brother who has christened a few kids,
Shows labored breath
I ask him gently,
"So, the white gowns, or are you going down under, to wear reds?"
The porn sure showed they wore red,
The evil women hot like Thai chillies
He retorts and laughs, and I hear him whisper,
Gently into my ear, a blessing and a thank you
I shrug my shoulders, and knowing I am detached,
Change his soiled sheets and underwear
Soap him gently and sponge him off
He then hands me his book, that looks holy.
Dear me, it is full of drawings of me in church,
And the hospital
There is one of me carrying an oldie, giving CPR,
Chest compressions though,
Something though is important,
I mutter, holding his hand suddenly
Let him leave, as he smiles and closes his eyes,
Utters "Ashes to ashes, Dust to dust"
I came to find you to say
That is the message for you, you won't find God anywhere
Become akin, not with pride, but by your own breath as you heal those,
He hands me the Red Cross patch I had made and gifted last week
When telling him I want to be like Florence Nightingale
He snickers and slithers into his sleepless slumber,
His hand resting on mine as the red in the patch seems brighter
In this dark moment
Go Florence, I tell myself
I close his eyes, lift him and walk to his altar.
Bye God, I got people to look after,
I utter and leave the church door quickly
Turning to wave to my friend who has gone.
## Analysis of the Poem: "Another Day, Another Day"
**Theme of Contrasting Personalities and Unexpected Bonds**
The poem delves into a complex friendship between two starkly different individuals. The narrator, a seemingly cynical and detached character, is juxtaposed against a devoutly religious friend. The contrast between their beliefs and lifestyles creates a rich tapestry of human experience.
**Key Themes and Motifs:**
* **Irony and Paradox:** The narrator, despite his dismissive attitude towards religion, finds himself drawn into acts of compassion and care. This irony highlights the unpredictable nature of human connection.
* **Mortality and Spirituality:** The impending death of the friend forces the narrator to confront their own mortality and the nature of spirituality. The poem suggests that true spirituality lies in acts of kindness and empathy, rather than rigid adherence to religious doctrine.
* **The Power of Human Connection:** The poem emphasizes the enduring power of friendship and human connection. The narrator's initial hostility towards his friend eventually gives way to a deep bond forged through shared experiences and mutual respect.
**Poetic Devices:**
* **Contrast:** The stark contrast between the narrator and his friend's personalities creates tension and interest.
* **Irony:** The ironic situations, such as the narrator's unexpected acts of kindness, add depth and complexity to the narrative.
* **Symbolism:** The Red Cross patch symbolizes the narrator's transformation into a caring and compassionate individual.
* **Dialogue:** The use of dialogue brings the characters to life and enhances the reader's understanding of their relationship.
**Overall, the poem is a poignant exploration of the human condition, highlighting the transformative power of empathy and the enduring nature of friendship.** It challenges conventional notions of spirituality and suggests that true faith can be found in the ordinary acts of kindness and compassion.
**A delve deeper into specific aspects of the poem, such as its symbolism or the character development
Initial Disdain: The narrator begins as a cynical and dismissive individual, indifferent to religious beliefs and social norms.
Gradual Transformation: Through their interactions with the dying friend, the narrator undergoes a significant transformation. They begin to exhibit empathy, compassion, and a newfound sense of purpose.
Acceptance of Mortality: The poem culminates in the narrator's acceptance of death and their role in caring for others. This acceptance is a powerful statement about the fragility of life and the importance of human connection.
Or, we could analyze the symbolism of the Red Cross patch.
A Symbol of Compassion: The Red Cross is universally recognized as a symbol of humanitarian aid and compassion.
A Personal Transformation: The narrator's adoption of the Red Cross patch signifies their transformation from a cynical individual to a compassionate caregiver.
A Legacy of Kindness: The patch becomes a symbol of the narrator's legacy, representing the impact they have made on the lives of others.