Bangles only jingle on the arm
but if you have bad luck, they say
it doesn't matter where you sit
So I often question
whether my environment
affects me
or is it affected
by me
The turbulence of my mind
has a way of becoming physical
unbeknownst to me, it creeps out at night
forsaking the realm of metaphysicality
like a hurricane it whips into my room
rampages, and wrecks havoc for fortnights
littering the scene with idleness
A kind of stupor is induced
and I begin to slowly sink
into this unfolding whirlpool
It's a seasickness that only I
am able to pull myself out of
Abruptly, inexplicably,
the cognizant waters calm
as my mood lifts
so does the rubble
within an hour or so
the mess that seemed endless:
empty bottles, chip bags, and laundry
teleport to the recesses of memory
Replaced by spotless productivity
that would have been impossible
to achieve in cluttered surroundings
it would have been like trying to author
a book on Louisiana's deltas
whilst living in Minnesota
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I like this poem a lot. I just finished reading SOMETHING PROFOUND and I'm aware of the two poems speaking to each other. In the first one, you are in control of the situation because of the energy generated by your paying attention to something profound. It's a simple equation of adding the plant's stubborn growth to your attention equaling strength and perseverance. But in this one, you only in control when you assert yourself and that's so hard to do given your mental state. In a sense, you have to summon forth and display the initiative of that plant to survive in such unpromising circumstances; in your case, it means pulling yourself out of lethargy and you do that by cleaning up the mess. It's just a whole lot harder for a human being, with our complex emotional lives, to make it happen. Congratulations, though, you succeeded!