Tag: poetry
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Hiraeth
I long to be, Somewhere free from me; To leave my youthful body, And the age of vanity. · · ─ ·✶· ─ · · I long to be, Amidst the dirt, Its fragments, unearthing my crust; To be scared of the beasts that surround me, Who came from the same Creator, And shall return…
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The Rupture
I’m always peeking in the distance. Sirens sounding, I hear nothing, I’ve never before lived as the Fool, Concealing my own nature, Waiting for the rupture. · · ─ ·✶· ─ · · I’m slow and weak, Quiescent like an infant, I count the steps, I count the beats, I pull, and push, like Sisyphus.…
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For the New Year: As a Writer
It comes with expectations and disappointments. Sighs of relief and melancholy. You’re perched on a threshold — looking ahead at the untrodden road that lies before you, whilst looking back at how far you’ve come. But one thing remains the same: you made it. Let that mean something. To the creative spirit: thank you for…
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Between Nature and Belief: Illusion, Decay, and the Human Condition
Humanity has long attempted to explain natural and mystical phenomenons via various belief systems, be it science or mythology. Mushrooms, in particular, occupy an uneasy position within literature and folklore. Across Romantic poetry, modern literature and philosophy, mushrooms emerge as the bridge between humanity’s relationship with reality and illusion. This grey area prompted me to…
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Labyrinth
I wrote this poem to explore cycles of faith, decay, and capitalism through the intertwined imagery of fungi and myth, reflecting on how belief systems can entrap as much as they sustain. Walpurgis night, and rings of fire,Saints never found the witch’s grot;Crooked, consumed, circular choir,Not barren bares, but cravats on corpse.—Yet they didn’t dance…
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‘Minds aren’t free; they only think they are’: A holistic interpretation of Dead Poets Society.
When I first watched Dead Poets Society on a monotonous November evening, I remember feeling so moved that I couldn’t stop thinking about it for days on end. I remember wishing for an alternative ending, resonating with many motifs, and bringing it up in every conversation. But most of all, I remember feeling called to…
The Barbaric Yawp 