Sinking Into Light
Sinking
Deeper, deeper.
Sinking in the light
Into the light of my peers
The happiness that causes them to talk and mingle,
Causes me to stay silent and sink deeper
Deeper, deeper.
Groups all around
Each group talking with a different purpose
Each signifying their different views
Likes, dislikes, happy, sad, frustrated, calm
All but me
All loud
But me silent sinking deeper
Deeper, deeper.
A hunger
A hunger frustrates my stomach
Causing my fuzziness
Fuzziness, but not of the sight
Of the mind
Fuzzy for lack of clarity
Lack of distinction between what is hungered for
And what is repulsing
Deeper, deeper
Sinking
Yes sinking, sinking and growing
While the sinking is downward the growing is inward
Causing the fuzziness and the silence and the sinking to go inward
But not into the body
No, not the body
The soul
The soul is sinking
The soul is sinking into the stomach causing my hunger
Hungers that I know should not be hungered for
Thus my soul sinking
My soul and my soles sinking deeper
Deeper into the ground stopping me from taking action
Stopping me from stopping this sinking
And so I sink
Deeper, deeper
Sink into my mind
Deeper, deeper
Sink into my soul
Deeper, deeper
And sink into the light
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Comments
beautiful write! happy holidays to you and yours
Lisa
Hi Collin,
Before I comment on your prose, I have a question. Besides being a poet, I have been an art dealer since 1969. One of my favorite American artists has always been Cullen Yates, 1866-1945. I have always loved the works of this well known American artist. Are you any relation to him?
Peace and Love,
xxx Larry
Not that I know of, Larry.
I am an actor, musical theater as well as dramas and comedies. I play several instruments and am also a cards magician.
In the past, painting has been another of my interests.
My grandmother,however, although not a Yates, is a painter.
Peace to you.
Have a wonderful day,
Collin
Hi Collin,
Sometimes, it is very difficult to know thyself. The world and the people in it, are the influences that transport our minds. For some of us, what we hear and see, does not register kindly, thus the inner turmoil. As each day passes, we sink deeper into the recesses of our inner sanctum. Eventually, we come to the abyss of abjection, where light is far over shadowed by the darkness of our souls. Sinking, sinking, ever sinking into oblivion. You've written a great poem! I welcome you to Cosmo.
Peace and Love,
Larry xxx