Sridhar Rajeswaran
Poet & playwright from Bombay
SoSe 2000
The Dance of the Cosmos
(a post-colonial poem drawing on Yeats's theory of history as rising and falling spirals)
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If things were If things weren't If things weren't what they were If things were what they weren't We know not what things are! Things are not what they are meant to be Caught as lumps deliberated We struggle those predicated unsaids That choke To coagulate in the throat Expend, expanded in the larynx. A simulacrated asphyxia What is this? What is this that has become of us? Are we or are we not? Drawn onto the vortex Into the corage Of a cesspool Of an ever concentrating spiral Converging inwards, compressing innards, constantly reducing Only in order to intensify. Being, almost reaching the just about to be Gaze-caught In the eye of the maelstrom Of an ever vanishing centre Mine-community-myself Poised as it were In the margins Seeking to asperse The vacuity of the world. Will the spectre cease haunting? |