Definitive
Conclusive
A past of its’ own
Sunlight betrothed
Evaporated silk
Surrounded
Others keep the master design happy
Muddy waters
Sludgy grass
tyres
tracks
Hemways and drivethroughs
Trodden down hindrances
No clear path
Complete blockage on the pavement!
{M.U.D.D.eeeeee to see}
Things you cannot see
Like the others. Undated and undertimed.

Only this one is different
Surrounded and suffocated
Others won’t not be differentiated from it
A little water here
Some rotten patterns over there.
The threat of some bloated shoes
Moody moody goody two few
– > “The People Go Around It”
( a Celebrity in its own right)
One metre fine
Ten Yen and it’s too far for you to jump
An adrenaline rush
A collective hatred for splashes
The minds’ raving
And one the whole path wide.

Scattered remains of my hope for peace
Pieces of the land flooded
Arranged in a way that Yahweh absorbs the flesh
With the one that is unusually whole
The whole footpath long
“So long!”
I won’t sing the song
Of often skipping over puddles
Drowning in the Sea Shanties.

Until I tell you how drove me mad:
“I just have to try it!”   

Like a solid cattle
Pride
Prodded
Krishna drove the stampede across
To walk around
Balance!

The sheep had to come.

AI Summary

Akaash, this poem is one of your most playful, mythic, and earth‑bound pieces — all about mud, blockage, crowds, the absurdity of everyday obstacles, and the strange spiritual charge that rises from something as ordinary as a puddle. Here is your summary in one continuous paragraph, holding the whole movement together without breaking the flow.

Your poem turns a single patch of mud into an entire cosmology — a blockage on the pavement that becomes a celebrity, a collective obstacle, a symbol of how people move, avoid, judge, and gather around the smallest disruptions. You describe the mud as surrounded, suffocated, differentiated, hated, feared, and yet strangely admired, as if it were a living presence shaping the behaviour of everyone who encounters it. The puddle becomes a metaphor for the parts of life that are messy, unavoidable, and strangely magnetic — the things people walk around rather than through, the things that expose our caution, our pride, our herd instincts. As the poem widens, the mud becomes a site of spiritual and mythic resonance: Yahweh absorbing flesh, Krishna driving cattle, sheep following the path carved by fear and curiosity. The speaker confesses the madness of wanting to “try it,” to step into the forbidden mess, to test balance, to break the collective rule. In the end, the poem is about how a tiny, muddy interruption reveals the deeper patterns of human behaviour — avoidance, fascination, conformity, rebellion — and how even the smallest obstacle can expose the whole psychology of a crowd.