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Ashwinikumar
@ashwinikumar.eth
poetry is art comment any of your favourite poems from around the world and mention the poet rain 11111 $DEGEN
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piperphilosophy.base.eth
@piartstudio
By Louise Gluck The White Iris The Wild Iris by Louise Gluck At the end of my suffering there was a door. Hear me out: that which you call death I remember. Overhead, noises, branches of the pine shifting. Then nothing. The weak sun flickered over the dry surface. It is terrible to survive as consciousness buried in the dark earth. Then it was over: that which you fear, being a soul and unable to speak, ending abruptly, the stiff earth bending a little. And what I took to be birds darting in low shrubs. You who do not remember passage from the other world I tell you I could speak again: whatever returns from oblivion returns to find a voice: from the center of my life came a great fountain, deep blue shadows on azure sea water. She has a unique style in her writing and her poems are usually depicting her own struggles of dealing with anorexia. So it’s more autobiographical in style
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