Poetry for me is a way of living, it comes out of nowhere and I have to write it down. How I write, what I write, I decide. I am not asking you to be judgemental. I am gifted with the ability to see beyond the obvious.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
stepped up
I climb two steps on ladder hang from there sweet sorrow passes fleeting in my mind slowly I gobble on food
you see, ruminating with a hungry belly is not done
How dark is this? The sweet sorrow and the slowly gobbling takes the reader through a variety of possibilities. Could he/she be about to hang themselves?
16 comments:
What was at the top of that ladder? Jae
mmm...so whats for lunch? smiles.
This one is most definitely food for thought. Thanks for being a part of the Sunday 160. Great work.
Of course not. It's hard to think straight over the the tummy rumbling.
Oh Gautami, you leave me hungry for more. Well done!
Gautami,
. . . and one needs a relatively high perch from which to begin digesting.
Trulyfool
I guess that cookie jar was a wee bit out of reach. Enjoy your snack!
How dark is this? The sweet sorrow and the slowly gobbling takes the reader through a variety of possibilities. Could he/she be about to hang themselves?
intriguing metaphors, climbing up the ladder -- reminds me of the hierarchy of the world food chain and where one lands in the order.
joanny
Say, you need to go and read my last week's 160 poem if you are ruminating on a hungry belly. :)
Larry
You are so right!
ooh, apples or plums I wonder :)
Sometimes fasting can sharpen the wits - look at Ghandi - but I have to go along with Old Egg. I suspect that ladder.
Old Altonian, he was Gandhi. NOT Ghandi...
I can't think of anything that is fun when we are actually hungry....nice write.
I wonder...what was so compelling up that ladder. You poems provides much food for thought,
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