The Comfort Zone

An EXPRESSION of inadequacy, inability, incapacity, hesitation, barrenness, supreme lack of confidence, of courage, of audacity. Frustration, anger, self loathing, bitterness, disenchantment.

Simultaneously a complete and unshamed REALIZATION of it all: No pretentions to happiness, confidence, and enjoying the pith and marrow of life, love, joy.

Finally, an ACCEPTANCE of it all - a permanent acceptance (inexorably...).

So is the poet the only happy soul alive because of this expression, realization and acceptance - all others are equally devoid of it all but their pretensions to having it all deprive them of the realization and acceptance that only the poet has?


The rhyme and symmetry in this poem is splendid, hypnotic:

Yet the Desert I tread [pause]
Its warm sands my bed [pause]
It wastes where I set [pause]
My...

Brilliant.

The imagery of the lines ``warm sands my bed...wastes where I set`` is hot and real.

Very rarely have I come across couplets (with their constrictive requirement of rhyme) that compete in depth, richness, and sophistication with the best of blank verse.

Encore. ENCORE.

This is wonderful.The last twoo stanza just blow me away.I think yu would write very good ``poetry in prose`` like Oscar Wilde. Keep writing.

beautiful

I really enjoy your poetry. Hope to see more on Chowk