Stagnant

I wake up. In an unusual move, I peep through the curtains to catch a glimpse of the starlit sky. The moon must've risen a certain way tonight. I pull a book called 'If I were a runaway' from under my pillow and leave the house with nothing but vigorous feet and an aimless mind. The roads look like runways; except, they're dark. They certainly look better suited for crash lands than take offs. I linger in front of the playground for a while. When I realise that I'm not used to enjoying the sight of children pulling their knees to their chin and burying their head in them so as to compensate for a forgotten mask, I leave. The glass doors of huge state-owned buildings and corporate headquarters fascinate me; they seem to be the only clean thing about them. But now, as I stand in front of one, I don't see angels behind me in my reflection. I mean, my foggy glasses certainly did create the atmosphere for an apparition but whatever. I continue to walk, making sure to step on every living creature that I look down upon, both literally and figuratively. The fact that I end up in front of a head-shrinker's clinic seems so unrelated to this chronicle that it could as well be a part of a different narrative. But now that I'm here I decide to fetch some drug samples to cure my mind of this aimlessness. I enter, and looking right through me, he says, "Are you sure that it is your wandering mind that brings you here, and not your stagnant heart?"

Reviews

[Carlos Lorenzo Estrada]

This is wonderful writing. I enjoyed how you described your walk through the city and how the images made you feel certain ways. All by simply describing your emotions reflected by these scenes. Excellent writing, Zoya, continued success in your writing journey, and thank you for sharing your poem.

[Zoya]

Thank you for your kind words! It means a lot to me :)

[emmajoygreen]

Your finely laid post seems full of doubt, of trying to find a safe place for your mind and heart. Seems whatever you see pales or darkens as you look upon it - tis sad. Fear here, perhaps? Hope in its shadow?
Such an intense write but one I have had to read a second time, Zoya.

[Chris]

Hi, Times have been rough and wearing on the strongest of us. Social change continued and children still became themselves but within isolation and turmoil. I wonder on all the effects and question the affects powered by misjudgements and fear.

[Kaye]

again, you are really good at imagery when you write, this is wonderful
and full of feeling...

[Haley]

A story weaved wonderfully into the poem. Capturing the essence of city walks and the imagery that goes with it. A very strong last line as well!

[Coyote Poetry]

A amazing poem. You told a realistic story in the poetry. I liked the below lines. A stagnant can blind us. Thank you for sharing the excellent poetry.
"I enter, and looking right through me, he says, "Are you sure that it is your wandering mind that brings you here, and not your stagnant heart?"

[wordman]

a book can take you places you`ve never been

[Zoya]

True that! Thank you for stopping by :)

[wordman]

you`re welcome

[andrew mitchell]

An enthralling thrilling ride of a write. Well done from start to finish.

[Zoya]

Thank you so much! I appreciate you reading it :)