Vickey’s boundless thoughts weave plastic poetry, dissecting time and pain, echoing Sisyphus, Samsa, and Jekyll’s fractured, resilient spirit for Different Truths.
Nobody can limit
My crescendo of thoughts
In the multitude of writers
Nor can I ever silence my silence
Focused on those that prick me
Vocal to those who break me.
My plastic poetry is my strength
When it falls into the canyon
Of decentralised epistemologies
When it dissects my brain into
Several parts of several time zones.
I feel
The apple thrown to Gregor Samsa
How it rots in him
Or rather, in me.
I feel
The feet and palms of Sisyphus
How he pushes
That boulder of suffering.
I feel
The manic depression of Dr Jekyll
How it slices him in two,
But none in actuality.
Picture design by Anumita Roy





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What a blending of literary characters with modern anxiety!
Fabulous one…
Fantastic poetry David!
Creative thoughts….well done
Love these classic characters of prose in this poem!
Poetry that enhances knowledge. It made me search some of the characters. A classy poem with classic characters
Marvellous as always!