This is from a journal entry written in uni days.
"There she was sitting on the edge
of the lowly built well -
whose curvature slightly resembling
the soft turns of her humble anatomy.
Peering intensely down
the depth of darkness
she feels desolate and disillusioned
weighed down to a hundredth of a fraction.
Conscience, her constant companion
had suddenly deserted her
and its rival- the unconscious
had impetously taken over
so there she sat
wide-eyed
throwing small round pebbles
watching the circular whirls -
a fixed gaze
not understanding
not wanting to understand...
those concentric circles
Make her head spin
round and round
and round... and round
Snap!
The monotony of the concentricity
is disturbed lavishly
a mynah has come to
quench her thirsty desire
and a soft feather falls -
the scent of the lush green grass
and the musical cacophony
of delicate creatures
emerge magically
The lively misé-en-scene
confronts her silence
how nature is so gay and free
displaces her desolation
and she wanders to another plane."
~ farheen Mukri
I find my younger poems to be powerful in their simplicity, this has power, it has simplicity and it is of a youth. A young thinker, a young feeler. That youth would not be clear if it was not titled as such, and it is more beautiful for it as a result. Very nice to read.
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