out of nowhere you find things in your head
unable to fathom how they fit in
mind although colourless contains
all those shades you never thought possible
tangled with unexplained material
what can only be called myth of the matter
permeating your whole being
layers and layers of it
akin to building balconies inside your head
without cement yet holding on steadfast
out of nowhere you find things in your head
unable to fathom how they fit in
but knowing that somehow they do
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
#Update@14/07/08: My muse is dead. I can't offer anything new today. I wrote this a few days back. I can't even take my own advise and keep writing.
It happens all the time!
ReplyDeleteGood take on the prompt.
Love the rolling echos, like beats of tom toms! Great!
ReplyDeleteMyths very often have several layers of meaning to them, and in your poem I am picturing several layers of balconies, like in some opera houses. Great Metaphor.
ReplyDeleteExcellent Poem.
Thank You.
This is a wonderful description of myth making. It seems a delicate process in some ways.
ReplyDeleteThe thing with too many balconies, is it starts to obstruct the view.
ReplyDeleteI love "tangled with unexplained material."
The surface of our consciousness holds many depths of supporting structure underneath, complicated and unseen, shadowy foundations. Great lines to think on. Lovely.
ReplyDeleteNice, glad to know that I'm not the only one to find things in my head...
ReplyDelete"out of nowhere you find things in your head
ReplyDeleteunable to fathom how they fit in
but knowing that somehow they do"
As another person commenting said it's good to know I'm not the only one.
I like your use of the image of balconies; maybe these odd things truly offer a new view if we can trust them. :-)
So many things in the mind that pop up like unwanted spam...but they MUST fit in somewhere...somehow...why else would they jump in there?
ReplyDeleteI love the prompt your poem delivers...!
"without cement yet holding on steadfast" is only one of the many wonderful lines. That one particularly delights me given all the unhinged balconies and thoughts that rattle around in my psyche. I love the last lines too. Wonderful poem.
ReplyDeleteWTF
ReplyDeleteOh, yes, this makes me think and tickles my brain at the same time. I, like many others, also love the balconies. What an image!
ReplyDeleteah yes, the mental jumble. it's the wellspring of dreams, of poems and of stories.
ReplyDeletemy poem this week also reflects on this theme.
I haven't read this one yet, Gautami, so I'm still proud of you using old one!
ReplyDeleteI'm always impress of how much the human brain can save information, but not knowing how they fit into thing! And you wrote this in a beautiful way!
I love the way this one builds the metaphor.
ReplyDeleteI think I built my balconies with cement. At least, that's how my head feels right now.
ReplyDeleteThis is great. It reminds me of a poem I once wrote about random thoughts.
ReplyDeleteSometimes we need to just walk away from writing for a bit (a few hours not weeks) and let the mind rejuvenate. You'll find ideas "out of nowhere" once the creative muscle gets a little rest.
You have just increased and expanded my understanding of 'myth'.
ReplyDeletetake heart about your muse. mine was so stingy in may and june -- NO POEMS. zero! but he's rolling back on in and yours will too.
ReplyDeletethanks for sharing a piece anyway. that's one way to keep your head in the game!
I love the way myths build balconies in a brain. Neatly done!
ReplyDeleteI don't think it is gone-maybe just gone on vacation. You had several really good lines in this poem. I like it.
ReplyDeleteI can identify with the sense of things in my head accumulating structures -- balconies, a great metaphor -- I'm thinking a lot about your phrase "the myth of the matter." This strikes me as a really important phrase in the poem. It makes me think about the stories we tell about ourselves and the world.
ReplyDeleteYeah, I get this image of balconies one on top of another with all kinds of stuff stored on them like junk in an attic perhaps. And all this is going on in my head and I'm clinging on to a railing in case I fall.
ReplyDeleteYa muse aint dead.it's resting!
ReplyDeletenone of my balconies have reailing though
ReplyDeleteis that dangerous?
'mind although colourless contains
ReplyDeleteall those shades you never thought possible'
This happens to me frequently. I love how you put the hope right after the frustration of writers' block.
I have been having the same problems here. I was given a wonderful line but it took me days to find any words to go with it.
ReplyDeleteI really like the unexpectedness of the line, "colourless contains
all those shades you never thought possible".
isn't that a reason to write them down and turn them into something useful, sometimes you have to get things our of your head in order to think
ReplyDeletelots of balconies in my head too sometimes!
ReplyDeleteyou got me imagining... thanks
ReplyDeleteI, too, wonder how some of my thoughts came to be.
ReplyDeleteA good write, definitely.
building balconies--i like the title a lot, and how it works in/with the poem, too.
ReplyDeleteyour muse will be back, you're so prolific it's just taking a break!
btw, i just read a novel (you, me and the insects by barbara henning) which takes place in mysore and was thinking about you (although every city in india is different, i'm sure, that some of the issues are the same! i wrote a bit about the novel on my blog)
g, a few days back a few days forward... i will gladly pay you tomorrow for a poem today... love the title... layers and layers of tumultuous material... that last sentence in yr comment... i was eating those words earlier.. keep writing regardless bah!!
ReplyDelete"unexplained material_
ReplyDeletemyth of the matter_
balconies inside your head"
thank u for sharing..
strange hos a mind works...
ReplyDeleteand my muse is awol too...