Webs

Posted on by Reena Saxena
Black hole at the center with swirling luminous gases and cosmic dust around it in deep space.

PARATAXIS

It is hazy.

It has no definable colour or shape.

It has a pattern – known but never acknowledged.

It is the web of tiny lies spun like a yarn to clothe truth.

It is the black hole that will explode rather than reveal its secrets.

The Emperor’s new clothes are the grandest spun from constructed narratives with a tyrannical lining.

HYPOTAXIS

It is hazy, as though refusing to yield a colour or shape,

while its pattern, though known, remains unacknowledged,

for it is the web of tiny lies, spun like yarn to clothe truth,

and it is the black hole that threatens to explode if touched,

and it is the Emperor’s new clothes, grandest of all,

spun from constructed narratives whose tyrannical lining gleams beneath illusion.

RXC #441

Six Sentence Stories

19 thoughts on “Webs”

  1. Very cool, Reena. Loved the use of comparative styles to say the same thing. At the end of the day lies are lies. Until some people are so worn down they’re willing to accept them at truths.

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  6. Oh, that was clever, Reena, those two slightly different poems. Very interesting the way you have used the two things: the parataxis and the hypotaxis. Now I know what they are called, and how they are used. Cool grammar, eh?

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