This is a poem about writing poems, when lonely and broken these notes seem to hold him. When happy and open he’s lacking the notion. When laughing when hope comes, when past deeds don’t show up, his craft leaves its so dumb like lapsing devotion.
Without any anger without any grudge. He puts pen to paper but the pen just wont budge.
But instantly pens will leap stricken with rage. It sickens me how quick he’s writin a page.
As a student of light and a master of dark. Its prudent to write from both poles of the heart. Til his brain has a talent for more than just grief, he will train for a balance endorcing his peace.
General
Comments are closed.
Likes
1169 Views
Share:
I enjoyed reading this piece. It is an interesting piece that shows your creativity. The rhyming words you used helped to tie the entirety of the poem together.
A beautiful metafiction piece – “BALANCE” reminds me of a passage in the first chapter for Slaughterhouse Five:
“I would hate to tell you what this lousy little book cost me in money and anxiety and
time. When I got home from the Second World War twenty-three years ago, I thought it
would be easy for me to write about the destruction of Dresden, since all I would have to
do would be to report what I had seen. And I thought, too, that it would be a masterpiece
or at least make me a lot of money, since the subject was so big.
But not many words about Dresden came from my mind then-not enough of them to
make a book, anyway. And not many words come now, either, when I have become an
old fart with his memories and his Pall Malls, with his sons full grown. I think of how
useless the Dresden-part of my memory has been, and yet how tempting Dresden has
been to write about…”
I love how you’ve described the writing process, and I think every writer here can relate. I find the line “But instantly pens will leap stricken with rage” particularly striking – like I can feel exactly what you’re speaking of.
– Jenaya
I think I might have to read that book now, never got around to it, and again thank you a bunch. I am just pleased they are being read. The last site I was on didn’t have any real readers and never had any honest critics they had to read two poems to get their own posted. In fact I have a poem in my book that I may post here one day called “Critics for an instant”