Friday, May 11, 2012

An altered state of mind

Image Copyright © TimFrommeyer

I am as if in the midst of a conundrum.
I can see but I cant watch, hear but 
Really dont want to listen. I move, yet
I am still, but walking on the waters of
The rainy Hyades on the dim sea.

I can hold yet cannot touch, I cry but
Do not weep. The salt dries on the face
And yet I cant feel the residue. I write
And imagine yet I dont think and toil. I
Am just a mirror placed in an angle.

You can see a million me's and I can
See a million yous. But its just me at
The funhouse of mirrors and distortion
Of internal images. In a slumber I am
And when I wake, its on the lap of daze.

Words pass me by, an incommunicado
Sub-conscious doll embraced by cobwebs
And dust at my angles, and a mask on the
Mirror that I know but have never seen. Its
An altered state of mind. A lapse of your reality

But, I am still awake with heavy eyes scanning
Frantically around to find a shudder that will wake
Me up from this state of seemingly eternal bliss. Its
Too good to leave but too hard to stay coz when its
Over you are way below in time and space;

Gathering your conscious pieces and sweeping those
Sub-conscious cellophane bags under your cerebrum
Is as easy as saying goodbye to the last train of eternity-
Inevitable yet painful but, again somewhat ecstatic. A
Thousand screaming headless torsos thrown into the mix.

The trip; the journey into the micro of things but
Looking at it from the macro on top just feels
Like the body is detached from you and you are your
Reflection. As the neurons fire under the influence,
The brain sits still gathering the output like cable tv.

I am what you are and I am what you are not,
I am your reflection and you are mine. But 
Beyond the wakefulness of it all is what I tend
To think about and then I see not me, not you
And not them, but a pulsating electron surging.

Into the funhouse we go and look at the distorted
Mirrors showing our true self and what we can be,
But, once we leave the mirrors still follow to remind
You of a sense of time which has no minutes or hours
But, only me and because of me a different you.

So tell me perception, which is me, what is them and
What is us and ours? Coz all I see is a hollow lane where
You can choose to light the flame or just walk into the
Darkness that keeps crawling like maggots and eating
Our state and time and realizations. Its altered and yet isnt.

The mind over the body, the subconscious over both,
Or just me and a perceived you above all else. Let my
Altered state of mind decipher and decide. For it will
Never be decided and the you and the me will all be 
But one and different in an altered state of mind. 

Every stranger has a name. Me and you...

© Malyaban Lahiri

1 comment:

  1. Brilliant! This is really good mona!

    I love the play of mirrors! Creates a dark haunting backdrop with the repetition of this word. When read in a flow, the poem sounds so trippy! And yet so realistic. I love it!

    Proud of you :)


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