Wednesday, December 3, 2008

The Vanishing Causeway

The concrete bridge is melting
and the undulating reflections try
to trespass and take away the here and now.
The upstream and downstream merged
like the mislaid extremes of beginning and end,
being and becoming,
overlapping the pane of perception.
The embodied subtlety,
encircled the infinity.
And beyond the circles, more infinity lay
under mysterious circumstances.
I reached beyond where the eye could reach
trying to feel some resistant partitions
that would enhance the futility of my search
beyond perpetuity
gaining some meaning to the edges
of my intelligence.
A dream would intercept my deep sleep
waking me up to more unreality of wakefulness
where I am awakened to juggle the time and space
on my small palms,
when the coiled serpent has reached its destination
traveling up the tunnel of surprises.
Infinity appeared staring at me in awe
measuring up to my imaginations.
Relativity went pale [having caught in the act]
in the face, for the dramatic enactments
backstage. There were only words
and only many syllables like faded graffiti in a ghetto,
well written on a sheet of contaminated water
having lost all connotations.
The flip side of the coin shaped like an octagon
lost it’s edges to the great circle ever expanding.
For the first time I saw standing there,
beyond which was neither void
nor the mystifying space, Me.
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Margareth Osju said...

The way you use your words is like one indicator of time, the pointer of the clock. Like always, a emotional intellectual touch, your poems.

Kebelle said...

creative choice of words that made poetry beautiful yet tensed and disturbing...

Parvez Ahmed said...

Nice stream of words. Great thoughts. Melodious syllables.

Sadia Hussain said...

As always Shashi I admire your choice of words and description. It's like you instill magic into every line!
Incidentally I've started my new theme on "Earth" on Medley of Hues, do drop by when you get a chance.
Take care.

Srikumaran Madhava Menon said...

You are a juggler of words...words of articulate excellence....and your imagination is such that one cannot fathom how deep and make me proud, my dearest....

Linda Jacobs said...

This is like a tightly woven piece of beautiful cloth!

Andy Sewina said...

Wow, there's some big big thoughts here, and beyond the extremities, the writer finally confronts himself.

I was just musing about the concept of time going backwards.

I like the bit about the syllables being written on a sheet of contaminated water,

Yousei Hime said...

I love the ending. To finally see self . . . thank you for sharing this.