Tear the inconsistency of mind
out of ears which are in your mouth
its blabbing talk of mental aberrations
fixed on stupid tangled clutch in fear
to turn from what you know.
Knowing nothing, nothing at all
while you argue holding company
with none but double-talk scribbled
to your own self coloured in book.
Feed, the scorn deserved to sweeten the ugly wind
of mouth which half smirk-smiles or looks forlorn
with every attention pre-spent on your smallness
I see below your eyes so wasted,
on dried old bones, ridiculous crumbled notions
belief-shaken in your 'thing-ness'.
Trembled in your fear to let loose
idol worshipped self-fashioned sanity,
the version with its ludicrous need of grip-handles.
Thin pledges fixed on clinging
to notions self absorbed
all guck in some deluded grandeur.
Before a slight poke to the middle
all stinks away, before reaching any spot,
the same spot, the one which you apparently are.
Stand it in Light to evaporate
left with nothing for needed blessing.
For now all tells in wriggling interest
even before its tasteless fruit arrives.
A contest entry
- the darkness... by PrabhuDayal Khattar.
400 points, ended August 27, 2008, 16 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Welcome any sincere response and critique
Comments
1 - 13 of 13
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Wonderful
Very creative and well expressed. Such a great write for the theme. Best of luck in the contest.
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wow! you are really filling your pen mightily!
Remind me to never piss you off!
That was wonderfully written, we could feel the
scathing in each line and verse!
Stand it in the light to evaporate
left with nothing for needed blessing...
ahh...dear soul..many I have seen,
walk into the light shed and stript,
to plead and beg for mercy...
even Gary Ridgeway, the Green River Serial killer!
(who could not hide from his lies, that he merely
was doing society a favor by killing the most vulnerable,
young prostitutes through our WA. State)
way to unleash that mighty pen of yours!
ears/Seattle sis
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I love the first stanza, it makes my ears itch & ache in an oddly appealing way. I like the taste that is left with this one, a gut kick with the truth is a blessed thing.
♥
whisper
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Yes it happens always whenever you look into the details of the life.....I love it..and my thanks for sharing such a wonderful piece..well done...
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the thing of the thing is a thing,
a thing that seems itself an else, an other
outside the very thing that makes a thing a thing.
and this it seems has placed the voice external.
as if somehow no answer whole could come to be
because of one, oneself.
and yet, each thing a thing as is and of itself
not separate or apart like that without the other
exists inside the radius, a point within circumference,
which makes each thought, expression as we know
one cannot split a circle into a million sides
and though no piece is greater than
its opposite through logic, each single still exists
so tell me how it is that through some fault of something
each I has come to miss
each I forgets it is
this thing as is or other
is merely what exists
and though the self seems flawed
in that its thingness is
one can't remove that vision
from self into a whole
without the self within
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'so tell me how it is that through some fault of something
each I has come to miss
each I forgets it is
this thing as is or other
is merely what exists
and though the self seems flawed
in that its thingness is
one can't remove that vision
from self into a whole
without the self within'
Perhaps: it isn't that each I misses, forgets or is at fault, other than orientating itself around thinking that it is the 'Whole', the 'I' in itself. The refusal to recognise its actual limitation, though given the width of vision potentially to make it possible.
There is only one 'I' and expressed as a partial, or an 'i' in relativity, a false or substitute notion for this truth comes about because of its subjective relationships. An 'i' thinks of itself as its own Oneness but unable to discriminate clearly between its utter dependance in relativity as an expression of this and the Original, which is the existence of everything. The 'i' thinks it is 'The I' or a limited version in itself but independent from the 'I', which is impossible. There is only one Existence from which all other 'forms' arise continuously without separation from or partitioning that One. Ultimately the 'things' are perfectly whatever they are, the 'flawed thingness' of individual people don't even have any existence other than in their dependance on the mind which 'creates' them as images of its own limited conjecture and belief.
All is One, begins and ends in One.
Ooooh... I've rambled
, thank you for giving me such a comment to think about. I think it's easiest to simply stay with the last word: 'One'. 
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yeah, I'm with Gillian, definitely some rattlin going on here. I liked it alot. lol.
And yeah, I admit, I squirmed.
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gosh..... who rattled your cage hun?? ... this is edgy and gritty and different kind of track for you..
i like the squirminess is brings out..
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Wow,it's been awhile I didn't read from you Karim..and this is totally different than your usual style..
I feel some anger I believe..and you expressed those feelings in very pretty way actually..I did enjoy the read because it still hold spirtuality and that mystical feel in your words..
Great job and best wishes in the contest
Ruby
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This feels so different from you, angry almost, if that makes any sense at all.
"I see below your eyes so wasted,
on dried old bones, ridiculous crumbled notions
belief-shaken in your 'thing-ness'."
- Ouch. That was really effective for me, visually as well as slightly metaphorically. I take it this came from a very personal place, which your poetry often does. There is a fuming quality and yes, a scornful impact which carries throughout until the last image is written across the monitor. That first stanza is also very good. "all stinks way ahead before" - This was the only line that didn't work quite right and I think it's because you have "ahead" and then "before" and it creates a strangeness, which I think, easily could have been avoided. I love the last two lines of the piece...I prefer apples not to be tasteless, but sometimes, things carry that dissatisfaction.
A fine piece.
;
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I'm so glad you consider this 'different from me', I went into venting a little, something which cropped up. This left a taste with me, which I don't think I'll return to often, born of a few recalled events rolled into one.
You as ever, read so rightly... anger, yes.
Made a change to the line you pointed out as well.
Thank you Diamond!
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Now the line is quite good, not that it was ever bad to begin with. I hear you there...I sometimes don't want to come back to some emotions, though I usually do anyways...As I feel like if I don't deal with things, they will start to fester and boil up where I don't want them to. But a taste carried with us is very common. Poetry is so emotional for that very reason.
You are quite welcome, emerald.
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