'I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be'
- T.S.Eliot
Glimpsed in the strips of light
That creep
And plate into corners as
Twilight julienne,
I've caught that scent
Of times that have seeped
And trickled through my fingers in vain.
I've fired my shots
And tried my spears
And gambled with harpoon in sling -
Drowned in the ocean
Of dried brown hours
These, my cultivated weeds that sprawl
And cover my walls of silence in gloom.
Trimmed with sounds
Of neighbours in soaps
And deafened with bombarded ads
I slouch in the couch
And text Ross and Guil
And lock my Denmark of Shame.
11 comments:
something is indeed rotten in the state of denmark..and somehow reading the words i sensed the stench..fight on..write on...
Profound and effective, Abin.
You offered a new perspective on an old, familiar tale.
Abin, another stunning poem! I am so glad I discovered your work on Poets United.
Original!
I love the image of 'twilight julienne' and that 'ocean of dried brown hours'. Interesting take on the original.
you have a creative mind.. i do like that Denmark of Shame ~
nice to meet you~
epilogue? well, then i'm expecting the sequel!
"Twilight julienne", "dried brown hours", "my cultivated weeds that sprawl"...........fantastic writing, kiddo!
Very well done, Abin. Very good work, with just the right wry touch.
Kay, Alberta, Canada
An Unfittie’s Guide to Adventurous Travel
you have done your part,
then relax.
awesome piece. keep it up.
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