orange-tiled huts,
an embankment with an ice-cold
touch,
like the swish of air
beneath the door,
taking hold
over the ankles,
in the grip
of
a tightening resolve —
the scene of this stillness
is unsuitable
for my silver-
spooned, steel-proofed
bathroom,
adrift with
the violence of
hair-falls, slippery soaps,
and the languid heat of
a late summer’s threatening tone
in a lonely play.
.
© Anmol Arora 2018
Image source (Bathroom Windowsill by Una Sealy)
Linking it up with the Tuesday Platform at With Real Toads
***
I have been working on a new Insta handle for about 2 months now, for literary and creative posts: @anmol.ha.
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I can almost feel that swish of air beneath the door. Wonderful, Anmol!
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actually, I shivered when I read the lines about cold air beneath the door – very gripping and chilling! and I have to say, every time I read this, I trip on the words slippery soaps …. great alliteration (I love it!) because my mind just wants to substitute “slopes” … so this is truly wonderful word play … and sets the mood so well without having chosen the more “obvious” ….
very atmospheric and “distant” and distancing reflection – great idea to bounce the more existential and transient nature of humanness off the silver/grey reflections of a …. bathroom!
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Gosh this is gorgeously written! ❤ I can feel the “swish of air beneath the door, taking hold over the ankles” and am instantly led to the idea of one struggling with his thoughts in the bathroom.. seeking answers to burning questions amidst “a late summer’s threatening tone”.. I am personally very particular when it comes to design and space and require the perfect ambience (if that makes any sense) 😊
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I can feel the wind beneath the door. This is atmospheric and yet, it has a sensuousness and a violence that is well contained.
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I love how you used the simple scene of a bathroom (with that draft) and the soap to paint of larger picture of discomfort.
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On an Ice cold embankment the heat of summer’s threatening tone… what is lonely without all those contradictions!!!
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Such contrast….I don’t know exactly…but this is pulling me to unknown terrains triggering thoughts….
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All smiles here, H.A. The travails of life in the modern. Besides the extreme draft from beneath the door I really liked, “adrift with the violence of hair-falls, slippery soaps,and the languid heat …” The room and other users suffer from the women’s beauty aid waste.
This is another of your clever fitting of a poem within a single sentence.
..
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Sounds like Australia before we got air conditioning! How I remember this song when it came out in the late 1950’s (I thnk). Your great words well matched with the song.
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Your words bring the feel of the scene to life for sure! Great writing!!
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So what to do? This made me ponder about what might be next.
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