The wind of humanity washes over me
Tugging at my clothes
sucking the breath from my lungs.
My brain is numbed by its coldness
The stream of chatter
Cascades down the escalators
Deafening, drowning.
I am jettisoned into a heaving sea
Jostled by flotsam
In an undertow of metal,
Horns sounding in a fog of traffic.
I lie in a broken surf of foaming cars
The Hebridean gale was never this cruel
The Highland torrent never so raucous
The Atlantic never so un-kind...
Corpse-cold, I drift to a western shore.
(Thanks to Jacqui Thewless for opening my eyes to an improvement to this poem and sharing her skill) .
A great poem.It rolls on like the ocean itself. Read WB Yeat's 'The Lake Isle of Inishfree'.
Nice poem. One word bugged me, tho: The Atlantic never so unforgiving. Corpse-cold - would have preferred: The Atlantic never so unkind. Corpse-cold - since have a thing for alliteration / and / syllable-counting! Forgive?
LIked this poem very much. Its imagery and movement work well. I have written and publsihed several poems about the islands and highlands of Scotland. I hope to read more of your work in the coming weeks.
This is my kind of metaphor! Thank you for such colorful journey.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Quick reply to Jacqui and Matt, and thanks both for your comments. 'The Lake Isle', Matt, yes, I love it, one of the poems I memorised in primary school, and which has brought me comfort ever since. If this piece brought that to your mind, then I am honoured indeed! Jacqui, you are right - 'unkind' would fit better...and I am now tempted to change it! . But for this piece, I didn't do any formal crafting, just let it roll, as Matt says. And i wanted accuracy...the place that inspired it is not unkind, but it can be unforgiving. (But me, I always forgive...eventually! ! : -))