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Monday, 18 July 2011

Stranger Than Fiction

On mask worn 
Identity on spinning wheels 
To give false notions, emotion 


Thorns  on  narrow roads walked on  
Telescopes with blurry visions  
Compass spinning with no thought   


Of direction, purpose, sequence   
Giving way to none on blockade    
And the wind is on strike   


Even the lightest feather knows no breeze   
The elephant in the room, chasing his tail  
Braking chalices and china plates in the process  


No one knows what roads to take, delimma of actions    
To assert whether this is reality or a dream   
But some times, when ordinary gives way to surreal  


Life can be stranger than fiction   
Imitating art, imitating life, imitating art  
I am left without a voice when angels falls   
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5 comments:

  1. the last stanza was brilliant - loved it

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  2. Life is stranger than fiction, certainly is. It is a paradox but turns out true as in your verse. Brilliant take!

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  3. I agree with Jo. The last stanza reminded me of a painting with a photo/painting in it, and the photo/painting was the photo/painting, and it kept telescoping down until the image was microscopic...

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  4. Nicely done - and I think Sioux made a great point about things tapering down. Just like the chin of the mask!

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  5. Poignant reminders... stunning last stanza.

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