Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Reality, a projection of you

Walking on the road, visiting the swollen feet
of each mindful man whose term and age fleet
like an ant digging the soils to protect its labour
and storm crawling in to take away all and savour
tired feet’s repository mined all through along
to finally design an anecdote of reality, all wrong
I stopped every single man I met on our way
to the time machine, from distances, they say
to speak my weary wisdom into their heads
but none saw the ambassador of million threats
so the mindful man abandoning his charge fails
never making the reality his projection, wails.


Anonymous said...

I really enjoyed this Monika. look forward to reading more of your writing. // Peter.

Divya said...

Hi Monika. Thanks for stopping by on my blog.. nice poetry from you.. enjoyed it :)
Nice to meet you and hope to keep the mutual learning alive.

Daydreamertoo said...

Yes, this was beautiful writing and, thanks for stopping by my blog too.

Brian Miller said...

reality all wrong but stuck there...i imagine several feel this way...nice write...

Pat Hatt said...

Yeah reality can be a pain, yet it can be changed, most of the time. Very nice poem, loved the rhyming too!

lori said...

You use such strong language to make your points. I enjoyed this :)

Claudia said...

you described this gap between reality and the illusions so well

Jo Bryant said...

Such an interesting poem - led me through many different places.

signed...bkm said...

Reality and illusion - what is to one may not be so for another...a warm welcome back...looking forward to more thank you...bkm

hedgewitch said...

"I stopped every single man I met on /our way/to the time machine..." I loved this line, and the whole cautionary tale the poem tells. As always, my pleasure to read your work, Monika.

Anonymous said...

Monika, you are the second poet today I've read who is posting to dverse. What a great site.

Your style is so fluid and evocative. There is a chasm between the ethereal and the concrete that you manage to bridge. Very satisfying read! Amy

Blasphemous Aesthete said...

And yet, I am counting on the very same men, counting on this world that it might change.

Very beautiful poem.

Blasphemous Aesthete