Category Archives: Isolation

“The Underside”

…dedicated to the many who wonder what’s become of all that is and where the bottom is…

“The Underside”

“‘The underside’ … it’s not just in tandem, ‘Once, it’s everywhere! … sigh …'”
And she was right. It seems the predilection toward
The animal appears where there is none; the tsunami’s force is froward
Where there is no place to go but straight to hell for all but those who fly
Or settle for a second-rate mortgage off the high road’s endless traffic.
And we along the shores of what’s become the greater sea who sit
And sign within ourselves no higher there, nor lower here, are aware of it:
There is no real rest from those who foment
Condescension to Creation, laced with lies
To trap the innocent, and revel in the vanishing point
Below the picture, well beneath the edges or between the joints
Of slender bones and tissues in the body politic; cries
Will rise for them and for their victims and their families,
The “taken”, “took” and “broken for which poets scribble homilies.

Once

“The tree outside the window taps very gently on the pane … I want to think quietly, calmly, spaciously, never to be interrupted, never to have to rise from my chair, to slip easily from one thing to another, without any sense of hostility, or obstacle. I want to sink deeper and deeper, away from the surface, with its hard separate facts. To steady myself, let me catch hold of the first idea that passes … Shakespeare … Well, he will do as well as another. A man who sat himself solidly in an arm-chair, and looked into the fire, so a shower of ideas fell perpetually from some very high Heaven down through his mind.”

The Mark on the Wall
Virginia Woolf
[1882-1941]

“Wife, child, brother, parents, friends…We come only to go apart again. It is one continuous movement. They move away from us, and we move away from them. The law of life can’t be avoided. The law comes into operation the moment we detach ourselves from our mother’s womb. All struggle and misery in life is due to our attempt to arrest this law or get away from it or in allowing ourselves to be hurt by it. The fact must be recognized. A profound unmitigated lonliness is the only truth of life.”

R. K. Narayan
[October 10, 1906 — May 13, 2001]
(shortened from Rasipuram Krishnaswami Iyer Narayanaswami)
The English Teacher

“So Easy to Feel”

“So Easy to Feel”

So easy to feel, to seem to be, to know at last propinquity
As if the light declares the coming glory of the sun at daybreak
Redundant. But as that disk cannot be seen for more than seconds, I take
That certainty of coming morning within me,
Knowing that midnight’s richest prize in ivory
Is forever fixed as is the station of the sun; the moon an intimate
In someone’s flight, perhaps, but even so, as she reveals herself in states
And phases never hers, agitation gains nothing in the motion save in memory
And affectations of the sea within me–force upon another force,
Measured consequence of a functionary that renders boundaries
Of continental pride and the ocean’s doors
Cast aside in the riot of the tides, a natural stampede, no more
Than thresholds of natural accident, the stream and river’s course
Now rising, now again a swelling to apostrophes, eternal inertia born of gravity.

“Alienation” by M

The following poem from M of strangebrew ,a site  on Stumbleupon.com worth more than a glance:

Alienation

Through windows I watch the world

Not longing for it

Removed, unmoved

I watch like a somber-eyed child

Robbed of childish wonder

My addiction to solitude a strange contradiction

To the desire of my silent heart

To be touched

M

“Decades, Fondest Friends”

“Decades, Fondest Friends”

Decades, fondest friends I will not see
Before I go; in off-appointed times
Each star appears to lead the way, divine
Appointments within the centrifuge , the siege
Of any given hour’s search for souls
Who bear hearing, to share an elemental joy,
Who bear witness to burdens nailed to every tree
within a tundra of grief, deployed
As when sagebrush in the undergrowth
Overcomes the vineyard, the goal–
Attained by twos not ones–steadfast
Forms hewn in solid granite, certitudes that
Worn become the greater victories.
Born, each in turn must then chose,
each will go his way, mysteries
Preserved, masteries revered set at last
Within an honoured niche, hallowed and adorned,
Placed duly on shelves of sixty years and more.

“He Bides His Time”

“He Bides His Time”

He bides his time because there is no hurry,
The bus has come and gone, the traffic
Fought and conquered, the car beyond the static
And stifling rush to the open sea; the flurry
Of attentions and careful intercourse–the blur he’s
Experienced, the awful triumph of arrival, ecstatic
In the sense of high achievement, high above, emphatic
Victory, but odd in quiet self-composure in his daily journeys
Insofar as he’s survived to see his destination far beyond initial
Expectations and well honoured as the drone
Of choice, untouchable, beyond reproach, buttressed by success,
Thrice crowned, thrice recessed but ever honoured as the guest
Of all the hive while the competition still sits bewildered in residual
Reticence. Cynical, at the pinnacle, no fear, no grief, but very much alone.