National Poetry Day today and I am so immersed in my first week of the Masters that I haven't written a poem for a while.
Let me offer this one to mark the day.
The hands of the clock
melt , dripping down
into the pool of my tears
turning clear waters into inky dark.
Time disintegrates as I watch
the veil between two realities torn.
Yesterday, the hours were safe
minute by minute, ticking
invisibly in our love.
But now, there is no time
no beating heart
regulating my soul.
I am studying the concept of intertextuality and wonder whether this thread of thought ties in with my favourite writer Virginia Woolf, - her concept of streams of consciousness and her playing with the absolutes of Time in Orlando.
Happy Poetry Day!
ReplyDeleteI love the flow of rhythms that bring this piece to emotional and aesthetic feel of fluent time with culmination in stopping the tide at a momentum of stillness in absence