For P.
A bad dream arisen
from distortion,
not quite the truth,
having been left
with incorrect
impressions not
corrected on
purpose. It took
on surprising
proportions as a
ferocious
animal assaulting
me, like Tipu
Sultan’s tiger
the English soldier.
Such fierceness
my feelings must
have. Perhaps
not for you.
About you –
about you and me,
about being goaded
and lied to.
– Iself (© 2011)
Written for NaPoWriMo, day 17. Actually, today's task would have been to reduce a passage from Annie Dillard’s The Writing Life, but I could not get into it, try as I might. (I tried 4 versions, calling them Curtain calls / Exercises in elimination and conversion.) But I still had the remnants of a dream to chew on, and they went into the poem above. Last night I found out, more or less by chance, that someone I care about has been dishonest with me, telling me things about herself that are not true, the greatest puzzle being the reason for this dishonesty.
Tippoos's Tiger – a life-size 18th century automaton on display at the Victoria and Albert Museum in London.
6 comments:
I agree about that prompt. Your dream sounds like an unpleasant reality check. Some people cannot avoid embroidering the truth, thus destroying any possibility of restoring trust. I hope it turns out better for you.
At best, lies are frustrating, but they can be as painful as a vicious assault.
Guess tigers don't worry about the truth of the matter... :)
Once someone lies it is impossible to trust them again. I too, hope it works out for you.
Pamela
Well recorded! I like the tipo tiger reference and picture!
Nicely done. Striking imagery.
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