Wednesday, October 1, 2008

you, me & the beast

trapped
in my body
the beast
seemed tamed
.
till
.
bathed
in your sweat
.
drunk on
the sweet slime
you ooze
.
it broke
the web
of your wispers
.
climbed
the waves
of your heat
.
devoured me
skin bone
flesh & soul
.
spitting out
the mind
just alive
.
to
tell
the tale
.

7 comments:

mayz said...

ah!!! another masterpiece...

i dont kno wat context u wrote this in...but for me its death!!! n knowin u m jus guessin its death!!!

reminds me of a post i wrote on my other blog...NIGHT OF THE SHINIGAMI

Preeti said...

you know shoon, everytime i see my blogroll and find out that you've updated its like a sinking sensation in the stomach...literally... because i have absolutely no clue as to what you might possibly have written...

and what you have written is unimaginably beautiful ...

i can write pages on my interpretations and also some more pages contradicting those interpretations but i guess, i'll let it be...

Shoonyata said...

Mayz: tahnks buddy...this was triggered by much more basic stuff than death...yes, you are right--death comes to me very often!

preeti: thanks...just let it be. interpretations when articulated can complicate stuff...just be with it, whatever it is that you take out.....thanks for enjoying this.

ra said...

a man after my own heart. my beast needs to be quelled if anything.

the strangest thing....this post, will email u about it.

this is so strange!!

moochhi said...

this reminds me of a book of poems called 'Crow' - forget the poet. this is sharp, sticky, hard-real-life-but-haunting

moochhi said...

yes, i now remember the poet - Ted Hughes, the famous national poet of england. Crow is eternal, hardy, ephemeral and real life crackly. as he says in one of his poems - 'God went on sleeping, Crow went on laughing'.

hey shoonya - the motifs in your poetry:
the buzzard, with the beady eye;
the dried log with blood on it, but its raining now so its alive;
the seducer, the witch woman, black or white with smooth textury skin who can drink lovers;
the self, drinking the elixir of the universe, the harshness in the feeling is what living is all about;
time, like Dali's painting, melting but present

Shoonyata said...

moochi...now YOU are being poetic and evocative. Yes, I remember the Crow...should get a copy now...havent read Ted Hughes in ages