Warning
To me, with my six monthly internal audit around comfort zones, Aish's poem below (filched from her blog) sounds like a warning. What I like about it is the dispassionate look at the process, without harsh judgment or sympathy.
Life in motion, at a standstill
Thrashing in a whirlpool
The outside looks green from within
but convinced it looks greener than it really is
You refuse to swim to the shore
there is great comfort in standing back and complaining
No one can say you did not forsee the problems that come up.
All thought, and no action.
Self destruction.
posted by sudeep @ 10:16 PM
4 comments
4 Comments:
In and out
of the swirling layers
froth seeps deep
into my lungs
and i evade
the effort to survive.
dense fog
viscose fluid
slowly
surrounds
submerges
the thin membranes
that spell nervous action
and I die.
space
engulfs me
I am lost.
What is this trigger within the strongest and the most beautiful that signals "self destruct" in red and switches on at a moment's notice, converting us to the living dead.
Wow. Beautifully written, Shalini.
The dense fog and viscous liquid seems like part of the answer, but not quite complete.
Aish
I am in the company of poets :)
Cheers!
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