[img]2689|right|Eugenia Mansell||no_popup[/img][Editor’s Note: Ms. Mansell is a poetess and a deeply searching thinker. See brief biography below.]
Going Under
Thinking, searching, talking…
Going under, are we there yet?
Moving fast, exhausted, walking, walking..
Looking forward to the “happy end”.
Task completes another task in order,
Belt of calendars around my neck..
“Are we here?..”
“No – keep walking”,-
Someone tells me right behind my back.
“What is purpose? Or where are we going?
Must there be a reason for God sake!”
Voice behind my back: “Keep walking.”“King” as echo- all I have to take.
Empty handed, I m following the others,
Heavy still my every single step.
There it is said: “We are all brothers”…
Why then I feel being so damn left?
All I do is making past of future –
What is presence? Presence is a gap,
Hole that I m failing to suture,
Dulling needles, cutting my last thread…
Chains of us, continuously moving,
Never find beginning or an end.
“Where are we at least? Are we improving?”
Voice behind my back: “We are condemned”
Out of my chest, like hungry cheetah,
Scream sprang out, left a painful scratch.
With the eyes of Camera Lucida
I am staring at my given badge.
A rising designer, artist, entrepreneur, Ms. Mansell may be contacted at zazazu.zazazu@gmail.com
