Commas
Somewhere between the truth,
And our world of comforting lies,
Is the world we seek to live in;
Happiness is what we call it,
Though a stagnating lack
of worry would do as well,
Maybe it's a race we're running
Against our own aging selves
Chasing a childhood memory
Always a step ahead of us:
A visible phantasm, a mirage
Concocted from our own imagined pasts
With guilt conveniently buried
In the shroud of forgetfulness
And yet - there's always a yet -
There is a listlessness, ennui,
That we never got what we wanted
And the regret, unmessianic,
Of not knowing what that was
Till the commas of life stop abruptly.
And our world of comforting lies,
Is the world we seek to live in;
Happiness is what we call it,
Though a stagnating lack
of worry would do as well,
Maybe it's a race we're running
Against our own aging selves
Chasing a childhood memory
Always a step ahead of us:
A visible phantasm, a mirage
Concocted from our own imagined pasts
With guilt conveniently buried
In the shroud of forgetfulness
And yet - there's always a yet -
There is a listlessness, ennui,
That we never got what we wanted
And the regret, unmessianic,
Of not knowing what that was
Till the commas of life stop abruptly.
Raamesh Gowri Raghavan
moonlights as an award-winning copywriter by day and daylights as an
award-wanting poet by night. He thinks he is funny, but his friends vehemently
disagree.
Raamesh,
ReplyDeleteAn amusing poem. I enjoyed it a lot!
Your friend,
David Fox
Thank you so much!
DeleteRaamesh,this is a fine ,thought provoking poem keep up the good work,
ReplyDeletelove and light,angelee
Thank you so much!
DeleteVery good poem, Raamesh. I really enjoyed being in your lines, thinking about them.
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing this poem with us, Raamesh. Also, have you checked where you commented at The Song Is...? Both Angelee and Mary Jo have responded to your kind comments. :)
ReplyDelete