Sunday, 10 September 2017

Torn



I’m torn between two poems, two oceans,
five countries, half a dozen rivers, two
dozen houses, forks in desert roads, motions
in parliament. Between the forks of due
processes. Between me being me, and you
being you. Between emotional quotients.


From wingtip to wingtip, from limb to limb
I’m easy to tear, separate into
segments along my perforated rim;
steel’s superfluous, a flicker will do –
of fabric, winds, porcelain grin, an eye through
a fanlight, a word, a long drawn out whim.
 

Torn between two stanzas, just now, and thrust
into matryoshka dolls, nested disputes,
between assets and titles, diamonds and dust,
isms and schisms and their hydra-headed fruits
and it’s easy to throw me, blind on the routes
of zigzag lightning between duty and trust.











14 comments:

  1. I so hope you can emerge whole.
    Sending hugs.

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    1. Thank you. Hugs back. Torn will have to be the new whole probably :)

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  2. Well composed. Your words came alive.

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    1. Thanks for the feedback, Martin. Much appreciated.

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  3. Hi Nila - so much going on ... we need to think straight, watch out and do what we can to help ourselves, control our own lives - and be generous to charities who need our help. Devastating things happening ... we need to care - and help heal those torn apart or torn lives ... wonderful words for so many terrible times - cheers Hilary

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    1. Too much to wrap one's head around sometimes. But everything is valuable in its own way too I guess, only it takes time and distance to see that perspective...have a great week!

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  4. Excellent poem. So many schisms. Yet with the torn there are still loose threads that pull together. A thread of humanity exists.
    Take care

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    1. Grateful indeed that a thread of humanity exists and pulls together otherwise the tears would totally destroy all. Thanks for being here.

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  5. It's sad to see so very many going through such trying times. And the rebuilding will take so long.

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    1. Too many people. Rebuilding always takes aeons.

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  6. Nila no matter the depths you reveal in your poetry, you always have an optimistic element. A lot to be torn about in our world. :-)

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    1. Torn had to be mended in needlework classes at school. Don't know what made me think of that! Cautiously optimistic - that's me :-)

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