Sleep, oh sweet sleep
Envelopes me, like a blanket
Stubs out the halo around,
Illuminates the mystic.
Transported to another mass,
My movement is featherlike,
Inhabited by my stung past,
Wonder why it surrounds me so.
Expertly, this world laces itself,
Blending different people,
Tearing into my fears
And placing me in improbabilities.
Jerkily, it draws me out
Like a tree reminded of its roots,
Forced to return to the ruins,
Why does it humour me, my subconscious?
- Janvi Gandhi
janvi.87@gmail.com
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6 comments:
whoaa.. loved it! kudos!
You have defined your own style as a writer/poet. That's quite appreciable.
thanks, I guess you see 'style' screaming out my work.. never looked at it that way :)
Beautiful...Keep the good work up!
Beautiful poem! I love the flow - the steady, drifting pace just like the "featherlike movement" of the speaker from one world to another. It is lines like this ("My movement is featherlike") along with other lines like "...sleep/Envelopes me, like a blanket/Stubs out the halo around" and "...it draws me out/Like a tree reminded of its roots" that give the poem the Imagist quality that it has without the images being harsh on the senses, which is often the case with Surreal poems. In fact, the images are soothing and lulling, evoking at once sleep, the subconscious and dreams. The perfect ending ("Why does it humour me so, my subconscious?") just clinches it. If I'd got this poem for a Practical Criticism exercise I'm sure I'd have thought it had come from a veteran poet!
Wow, Sid!:) I'm flattered. Thanks.
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