a sleepy world,
where the sky leans low,
heavy with dreams,
and the streets sigh
with the weight of twilight.
an explosion of perspective,
a kaleidoscope of thought,
spinning, splintering—
nothing is quite what it was,
everything is almost
what it could be.
from their shadows,
they drift like smoke,
phantom selves trailing, trailing,
lost in the soft murmur of the night.
you do not possess—
you stand, unfractured,
as the light bends
itself around you,
and time seems to
trip all over itself,
unable to quite
pin you down.
Be well and make the most of this day.
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Poetry should move us, it should change us, it should glitch our brains, shift our moods to another frequency. Poetry should evoke feelings of melancholy, whimsy, it should remind us what it feels like to be in love, or cause us to think about something in a completely different way. I view poetry, and all art really, as a temporary and fragile bridge between our world and a more pure and refined one. This is a world we could bring into creation if enough of us believed in it. This book is ephemera, destined to end up forgotten, lingering on some dusty shelf or tucked away in a dark attic. Yet the words, they will live on in memory. I hope these words become a part of you, bubble up into your memory when you least expect them to and make you feel a little more alive.
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There are worlds that seem unreal, as some sensations seem unreal experience. I read your poem and I wonder how “unfractured” we are, how whole we are. Can we live without the environment not hurting us, not affecting us? Like that leaf that falls and follows its fall in a light way, aware that in the fall there is also beauty. It is always good to read you. Nice night, my friend.
Very beautiful poem, a dream world. Man separates from the shadow when he dies
As always, beautifully written work. I always immerse myself in you writing. But this week, the following passage really spoke to me
I have been reading about philosophy as a way of life (a book by Pierre Hadot) and how there is this idea of getting to a place to where you see life from above, removed from everyday dealings and worries. It was a Greek spiritual/philosophical exercise. But through African philosophy, the opposite is needed. It tries to immerse the philosopher in the interconnectedness of daily life, with people around you. Your passage, the explosion of perspective, almost like the image of the kaleidoscope illustrates this so beautifully. It feels like that explosion, a rupture almost. A bursting from the seams, and then just the flood of colour, smells, tastes... One might say a sensorial overload - but in a good way.
Sorry about the long comment, it might not even be what you had in mind! But those words just stood out to me this morning because of the research I am doing at the moment.
Have a wonderful week!
Very emotional poetry. Sometimes I also think like what you wrote. Sometimes I feel like this world is not friendly to me, and I'm tired of living this life. Have a nice day, Eric.
This poem definitely sent a glitch to my brains. A kind of fear after reading the poem about the reality of life and death. Well written though some lines I couldn't understand.