http://slow.writerscafe.org/swagatosphs The original writings of author Swagato Saha en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1775974892 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 What if the core of subjectivity were decentered, constituted by fetishized objects that surround? Commodities are, after all, metaphysically imbued... "Spirit is a Bone." - G.W.F. Hegel. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/3129182/ Why is the contemporary urban aesthetic reduced to the spectacle of skyscrapers - "a perpetual repetition of one and the same content" (Hegel)? This poem concerns the nihil of the modern city scape. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/3122532/ This concerns the silence of the feminine subject in film and literature - an artifact of male fantasy, it speaks only in aftermath, through gestures and gazes. "The woman does not exist." - J. Lacan http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/3121458/ Why is it that various diasporas - despite their own immigrant origin - often espouse xenophobic politics of the populist right? "Each consciousness seeks the death of the Other." - G.W.F. Hegel http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/3119016/ Is Democracy qua People's Will aptly read as the 'Sum of its Parts'/Individuals? How does the Subject relate to the Whole? "[...] keep both the parts and the whole in mind at once." - J. Ellenberg http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/2963006/ How do modern computers transform scientific theorizing? ‘With enough data the numbers speak for themselves [...], science can advance even without coherent models or unified theories' - P.W. Anderson http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/2958408/ An attempt to distinguish ordinary Stress from Anxiety - Stress while enumerable, Anxiety expresses the undecidable aspect of subjectivity. "The only emotion that doesn't deceive is Anxiety." - Freud http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/2951358/ What is truly at stake in a heartfelt confession? To know the way we truly feel, in Language defined per eternal traditions? "The subject does not speak, but is spoken by language." - Jacques Lacan http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/2946772/ What is the 'Invisible Hand of the Free Subject' like to the world of objects - violently transforming and displacing things in its Promethean wake? "Words are a stain on silence." - Samuel Beckett http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/2943871/ How do the forms of modern media affect Subjectivity? Can Poetry as 'Aporia' recover truth amidst the algorithmic ether? "The medium is the message" - Marshall McLuhan http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/2936807/ Can liberal-multiculturalism contain the subtle paradoxes of cultural difference? "The tradition of all dead generations weighs like a nightmare on the brains of the living." - Karl Marx http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/2929631/ Against the dictum "Personal is Political", what is to be done when the World as the shared space of collective action disappears? Do "we live in a Society"? Or are we but sheltered black holes? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/2923840/ Inspired by Derrida's work "The Animal That Therefore I Am", this concerns the eternal chasm between the Subject and the Animal Other. Why are pets widely abused? Why is love oft violent... generally? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/2920780/ A take on the modern subject's anxiety-riddled relation to the rain ("Rainxiety") - Does the naked hand remember rain? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/2911521/ 'Man's maturity: to have regained the seriousness that he had as a child at play.' - Friedrich Nietzsche http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/2905630/ Isn't the contemporary intellectual scene rife with specialists with little sensitivity towards issues outside their expertise? How then to resist this privation of reason and rescue public discourse? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/2903254/ Bleakly inspired by the wake of AI-plagiarized Poetry, this work attempts to render the status of Subjectivity against current Large Language Models that seem to have perfected the "Imitation Game". http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/2899880/ A personal take on the shifting scenes of 21st century Kolkata, of the aesthetic struggles underlying its pomposity of imitations - can the truly new break out of the logic of nihilistic repetition? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/2897066/ An attempt to understand the ways in which memory severs, loses its material ties under the influence of private pathologies. Perhaps why the most intimate nostalgia cannot be ordinarily communicated. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/2893124/ What if the coordinates of reason misperceive chance encounters as portending deeper meaning? I have in mind the modern-day academic, and as if a clash of first- and third-person perspectives. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/2884109/ As Freud identifies the Unconscious as a site of resistance to rational knowledge, could the same also hold true for the (modern) Subject's (unconscious) belief in God? Can we be truly godless? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/2876855/ This concerns the fallacy of representation, as it tries to number the unnamable colours, unnamable to "listless (colour) maps". Yet modernity, in the guise of white LEDs, sees the unnamable depart. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/2866586/ To whose whispered spell my fancies sway? 'Gainst solidity, good sense'd surmise,Seduced by unruly visions that play, Sublime mechanisms of demise! As sure-plated the skyscrapers stand, Be undone by fissures mad gazes seek; Or idylls of old daydreams disband, To monstrous tales the sleepless speak.... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/2862758/ Closed-form of still sentences wreathe,Opaque to an other's invades,Circle-terms on restless repeat;Where phantom conversations wait.While questions pace aletheia's door -Vile the news-time tirades devour,Gulp to echo-chambers' promised ensnare...To discrete sounds then language tear!And thought wit.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/2859321/ What's a silent glow to late night's retreat?As sapphire stars on a stone-eyed street -Elude clockwork and the lantern's slow burn,Where dream ye pipers; at vermin's morn.Then 'vade insect trails crevices of time,Past moored homes to prior human lives,And chitin wastes to breach anxious within;World.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/2854985/ Do join me then at decade's close?What's become - of punctuated weeks,Suspended now at midnight's toll,Ha'e left us a moment to speak.Then to part ways, to decohere,To separate stars like we never were;They'll find you there as good as old,And here shall I open at your close.O' many like me'd heart .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/2853058/ I hold my heart to the mountain blades,Sensing there not a spying soul,I search thy still, o' stray cascades -Forgotten depths whence verses flow.A lonely cloud drifts to the frosty night,And rains on Nocturnes' wordless gloom;Whilst Summer's forests be burning bright,To Nothingness pass in genteel .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/2846278/ On fragments' wait the kind stitching hand,Now serves at the veil of day,To every stray inconsistent strand,It tends... to tempered array."Condemned to multitudes incoherent I -Retrace my steps through dispersed ties,In these depths who lay or in circles run,Non-beings of ecstatic delusion!""Condemn.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/2840071/ 'Tween subliminal strands rose the ever-worn frame,And seized me, through dreary decade that separates,Frozen ores of old from thus I - dissolved and tame;Such it'd streamed to sense! Now the mind hesitates...To bear this burden of homely lies, to return,To inert abyss, fickle narratives that churn,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/2836694/ For they know not... they serve split between,The spying eye without, and calls within -Precious shall save their object souls?In privy dark, on sleepless parole.For though they think... they've fled for sure,The plight of forms to dwell secure,And reveal in narcissistic escape;None to discern their.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/2834471/ Stray the choices unknown that pass,Such are dead-ends we don't dignify,Take to winding ways, care not a pause - Until on crossroads; why stand by?Long'd they wait, till to me then revealed,Thus disguised manifold infinity!One impossibly stretched as far I'd see,Midst leaves lay another humbly .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/2832480/ 'Twas a toilsome day ahead I thought,And steadied my nerves at the door;Till someone above great news had brought!Of today we need work no more.To fields we took, caught the sun twixt eyes!Unknowing how this hour did seem,To the resting dogs and the birded skies;Midst the flowered green as kids we b.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/2830129/ Its metal arms wear; and melt and droop,By barren bones on trees thereby to stoop,To the lowly multitude, thence dissipate,O' sands o' time, in interstices wait.Whose banal ticks trail the program's repeat,As wires tense whence vital currents beat,Deranged to the squeals of never-ending bits,Its cog.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/2826278/ 'Gainst furies of ghastly stars we'd flailed,Through worldly waters of time onto moonlit shores;Where we crawled, and rose in arms, unveiled,Orders of opaque midst deepest soul.We stood on brinks, knew thus sphere had spun,Its trails transparent to the mountain's eyes,They pale as plain pages to twi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/2824444/ What once were weightless whispers inane,And nameless wagers ever fleeting in vain;Till in breathless glory did pass, to divine lore...O' proud silence o' words - thou scorn before!Thy litany o' letters must the corridors chime,Like errless laws long older than time,Opaque to presence, unconscious t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/2821226/ In arduous heat of early May it was,The first rains of longest year became,And shallow pools that sat in lonely impasse,Cascaded o'er the asphalt frame.Elements of the classroom lay still no more,Rose in mutiny 'gainst the certainty of sense,And chained me helpless to dreamy stupor - Riddled re.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/2817093/ In a cauldron of earthly noise, there I stood - Naked dust 'gainst the metonymy of winds,Stooped low in kiss to the comatose wood, And the leagues diverged in pursuit of winds...What worldly waste of matter, there thought I -Lonely dust midst swooning atomies,And remained thence in defiant.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/2815455/ 'Tis in hour o' thought whence gluttony clears,For sweet slumber and the slaying o' time,Where'd wane blonde days to grey musings o' years,And daydreams drown half-honed rhymes.Resonant her flashes o' yellow ring!Through curtains; the turbulent wind-chime,Disrupts my unmanned thought meandering-Mids.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/2811238/ Orders of opaque 'gainst faces they raged,Condemned to wordless recoil;Obscured to depths whence long'd they waged,O' what of thus silent turmoil?"I regard thy surface sublime she seems,To the ecstatic eye that strays!Sure as foul tongues fail to redeem,Our oddities dispelled at bay."Orders of opaqu.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/2809758/ By the waver of lamps so these keys tire,The walls age 'nother day;Dim the screen deems my wake's expired -Mid numbness o' neuron's decay.In peaceful pride I serve my dreams;My limbs for long comatose,Discern pain that the plushness redeems;Those that toil thus duly doze.Yet guises swarm like organs.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/2807186/ What warmth seek I in the scenes that swarm;Familiar as they've grown,By the stones, by blades, the barren arms-They bear no scent unknown...All tension tamed whence it shan't harm,The leagues of silent snow.My dog shivers faithful beside, his qualms I shan't heed,To trace the winding ways instead, .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/2800268/ O' words I was told are treasures to behold,Whence wise we wake to the blood that flows,In sour guts, in sore limbs - o' wonders we wreathe!No more'd rage stars, no less'd flesh breathe.Yet what troubles belie my utterance vain?To those I court in sincere exchange;And silence that veils the earful a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/2796296/ Lifelessyou heed their sprawling limbs and the wayward leers that be,Servile as thy leaves that wryly pale held to the wind’s mercy,And silent as autumn sun melts cross thee ageing wilderness,Lenses swarm your moves monitored, so you smile in harness…They travel afar whence .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/2792687/ Forlong I’d seen thy silent glow whilst the years revolved,Aboard cars in transit swift or poised in high abode;Like the moon your crudeness slips through glass unresolved,Till despair’s stroll tonight, my feet serve the friendless road…“Unruled, dispersed, it sp.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/2788788/ On silent nights I hear them gasp round in circles still...Mucous ghosts that slip the eye to breach the window seal,Cheat the alcohol fumes perhaps, to masks that dry on walls?The many worry the few weep, all in emptying halls.Be I damned as sure I'd sworn, to serve by those next door-Forget the ho.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/2787429/ Must be the sky of a yesterday I see;Is it sane to ask a stranger the year? Be all the wrongs in time is but right in place,Know not whence I came, all roads lead here.Facades rise severed, stitched beyond repair,Stripped of form proper the longer I stare;Oh good asphalt it melts to my touch like sa.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/2781656/ Dawn's on hold for another day as it rains; We can trust it's still the dark of night,And tiptoe to dreams 'way the clarity of ways,The many asleep and the few asight.Aimless the mists swim like ghosts of Christmas,Pall the empty stone-eyed sweaty streets;As nostrils drool over the precious petricho.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/2779638/ O' nights on the flight I court thee once again, like I have my nascent years through,As monotone sighs of old bred breathless dread; breathless I now await you,Strangled in dark by serpentine ways for I know not what end to pursue...Shall I return retrace the timeless trails, oft-abused bliss thoug.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/2776230/ Words on the flight do bear with me, why they slip like despair riddled days?Perhaps so long as I turn my pages, to negotiate the many twisted ways,Of memory alien afar rootless reach; 'tis a strange fate that's ever shadowed me,But words on the flight oh I shan't keep you wait, least for senile sel.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/2773301/ So to return to this night again, oh in despair my pride cast away, The laymen laughter rings clear through trails of ashen neuron decay, And oh so many such nights I've lived, that perhaps I've lived too long, If the heavens were so kind to spare a summer breeze; I leave here my swansong...What is .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/swagatosphs/2770735/