the ugly writers

River

I look into the river and see myself in reflection. Colorfast but unstable, I move helplessly in it’s flow. I am constantly being moved and changed,

River

I look into the river and see myself in reflection.

Colorfast but unstable, I move helplessly in it’s flow.

I am constantly being moved and changed,

but left stationary, moved but not moving on 

like the fishes and pebbles. 

Here I am, disturbed and abstracted,

surrounded by this rippling, babbling, watery world, 

which leaves me unclear who I am and,

more unclear about the solidity of my background

and what is happening around me.

I look into two worlds which are intermingling,

becoming inseparable before my gaze.

My own distorted image fades and breaks

with the images behind and beyond me

in the background of my life.

This river is becoming a metaphor for my own confusion.

For the displacement and fragmentation, I feel inside. 

I am in danger of being broken up and washed away.

Unable to bring myself together, I remain in pieces,

undecided, lacking definition.

It is also a metaphor which stretches beyond my person, 

into the confusion and fragmentation beyond its edges,

into the reality outside, which is pressing in on me. 

It excludes any coming together, any resolution as

it embraces me in its ripples and sounds.

Such sweet, watery sounds, cooly relaxing my spirit.

Shutting out the incoherent babbling outside.

But still, even as I put my hands over my broken ears,

I know it will find a way inside and overwhelm me,

in any case.

 

Catch below other poems written by Lynn White and shared with The Ugly Writers:

reflection the ugly writers  Where Lies Reality the ugly writers  the ugly writers  the ugly writers

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Lynn White
I live in north Wales. I have been writing at various points in my life since I was in my teens. My work is influenced by issues of social justice and events, places and people I has known or imagined. I am especially interested in exploring the boundaries of dream, fantasy and reality.

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