The Hiatus

Hey,

I haven't posted in a while and consequently I have received numerous (one) requests for new posts. I know how eagerly you all await new posts, but with great regret I announce that this hiatus will continue a bit longer. Grave times are on us at IIT : exams.
The struggle against this evil will continue till the end of this week, so nothing creative can come out till then! After this is over though, I plan to attend a poetry writing workshop here in Delhi, which should help. I'll keep you guys posted on that.

Himanshu

The Life of Futility

Hey,

I'm sorry, but no super-exciting fiction as of yet; but do not despair! Instead, I present to you, my best attempt at imagist poetry as of yet. The inspiration comes from one of my favorite poets: T.S. Eliot.

Since its an imagist poem, I've tried to include lot's of imagery in it. Plus, the imagery has a pattern to it. Here is where you come in...can you identify it?

HINT: The pattern is linked to the physical structure and overall storyline of the poem.
I'll be looking for the answer in the comments section!

The Life of Futility

Once again, the giant sphere rolls into the light

and the night’s rain pumps back to the seas.

Rise, lest our circular time keepers might

chime again in our dark alleys.

Noon already?

See the morning fly?

Over the people, over and steady,

over the mechanical mountains and thereby,

circle the carcass, corrupt, rotting, full of delight,

till the blaze is the brightest, blinding to their eyes.

It is now! Time to descend, time to alight,

yet time itself takes off and flies,

the carrion fades and the seas rise.

The seas rise, the rain is back in the clouds,

back again on the same eve, but in a different life,

yet nothing has changed, no star in the sky

has reason to descend, reason to defy,

and time always shows its presence,

the axle turns,

and the sun drops from the heavens.

Stuck on a stationary gear, this loop repeats,

and like the past, parts of now are hard to focus,

for life is a lie, our minds the cheats,

and we truth this lie, till the end is on us.

Yet I shall leap and land and leap again,

like dunes washed in the red sun,

each zenith with its slippery end,

trampled by hundreds of dizzy feet.

Now! Steady the hazy legs, ascend,

over the paths, over the mountains,

over the birds, over all, but only till the ridge ends.

Tear the dream, destroy the illusion and thence,

summon the great beast itself.

Summon it, call it, make it ascend

the nine it has built for its own defence.

Now face the beast and see yourself,

facing back, beyond the ridge’s end.

Men! Grab a knife, grab a spear,

put an end to this fear,

the beast here, the cheat there,

combined assault, it cannot bear!

But bear it did, all through the night,

and when the sphere rolled into the light,

the birds took flight, the armies stopped,

and there it was, clear as the starless sky,

there is no truth greater than this lie,

and no life more meaningful than the futile life.

Himanshu Sahni