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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=523647" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Doppelgänger</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Coming home late from wandering in my sleep<br>In search of that which goes ahead of chase<br>i saw the image of my form stretched on my bed<br>His looks - minus my glasses - through an impish mien<br>   transfixed me<br>my sandals gently flapping on his soles.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">i peeped into the mirror<br> and saw him hovering<br> over my upturned eyes.<br>Out of the window and still his eyes held me.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">i was aware my room was lived-in: <br> my cigarette wasting in an arc of ash i rescued<br> my opened book advanced a page or two<br>(no great reader, thought i) </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But when i saw him in my new shirt too<br>There was little i could do.<br>i turned as if to go<br>and thought i saw him beckon to me thus: _______)) </div><div style="margin:10px 0">i stripped<br>till limp as limbless on my bed<br>He gave myself up to him.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He's looking down this ball-point<br> and methinks i'm trying to say<br>what he wants me to think<br> and i'm not quite sure<br>if what he thinks i'd want</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It seems to me<br>He MUST of needs have his mischief<br>But couldn't i do both<br> and bring him back to me</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet he seems to be saying<br> how free i am<br>Mocking my ways as sham.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then when my eyes keep drooping<br>i say - i think i'm saying to him: <br>    Wait! <br>i'll trap you yet in my consciousness! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Abruptly i rise up not seeing him around and wonder<br>Where has he loped<br> What has he seen that i have not<br> Who has he met<br> Whose stealthy arms enveloped my torso<br>Why would he not share what he knows<br>    with me</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And when total strangers in foreign places<br>cock their eyes at me<br>i'm verily jealous-ed<br>that he makes friends with such ease<br> and judging by the curves and peaks<br>with such aplomb too<br>- the impish fella -<br>though i dare not return the blown conniving kisses<br>from his chance acquaintances</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Downcast as i halt from straying<br>in the lower lids of my eyes<br>i spy him once again<br>cavorting: clasping his fingers in mock tantara<br>cartwheeling: jumping in and out of my almeirah</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and yet when i try to read what i have written<br>he sits on the sill of the wash-basin<br>his taunting bee's eyes stilled on me<br>the stand-stillness sucking all sound from around<br>and when i dare return his wistful stare<br>he throws a manic tantrum<br>a million tam-tams bursting through my ear-drums</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And when his time to leave comes round<br> by fall of each full lid<br>Departing he leaves me<br> worsted, stuck and fey</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now when alas i stand apart, i think…<br>Well, you know, when i recall…<br>Well, what gets my goat…you see, that is…<br>What i darned can't stand about him<br> is that prankish habit of his in bed: </div><div style="margin:10px 0">While mine halves<br> The woman's doubles</div><div style="margin:10px 0">(©: T. Wignesan, London,1959; from the collection: T. Wignesan. tell them i'm gone,1983)</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=T.+Wignesan">T. Wignesan</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=523647" data-title="Doppelgänger de T. Wignesan" data-description="Coming home late from wandering in my sleep
In search of that which goes ahead of chase
i saw the image of my form stretched on my bed
His looks - minus my glasses - through an impish mien
   transfixed me
my sandals gently flapping on his soles.
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