deepundergroundpoetry.com
Unplug Me?
A plane is passing
through brain-dead cloud
Beyond the window
my ghost salutes the Avenue
poor outstretched hand
still mimicking the fumble of a heart
embracing emptiness,
this bed and tubes
with kisses colder than stars
through brain-dead cloud
Beyond the window
my ghost salutes the Avenue
poor outstretched hand
still mimicking the fumble of a heart
embracing emptiness,
this bed and tubes
with kisses colder than stars
Published 9th Nov 2011
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Anonymous
- Edited 10th Nov 2011 11:14pm
10th Nov 2011 11:13pm
I think the title is in somewhat bad taste, seeing as how IMO it reduces this tender elegy for someone at death's door to a question which kind of dehumanises them. Perhaps you could change it to something more subtle, like "The Choice" or "Supporting Life". I think the problem I have with it is that it tries to encompass such a major issue in two words, while the poem itself doesn't really ask the question, but rather conveys how being mentally conscious in a coma might feel, which it does wonderfully.
I have no problem with the poem. I like the last line a lot. It makes the reader think about what it means. Stars in reality are scorching, but when you look up at them at night they seem cold and distant.
All of this is JMHO of course. Thanks for the read, Abra.
I have no problem with the poem. I like the last line a lot. It makes the reader think about what it means. Stars in reality are scorching, but when you look up at them at night they seem cold and distant.
All of this is JMHO of course. Thanks for the read, Abra.
