a writer of prose
gathers his words around him like an arsenal
strategically placing all about
surrounded you with intense imagery
striking the senses from the outside in
intent on bringing you into the scene of events
like an opponent who works to anticipate offenses
making meaning in order to walk away from the battle
better for being a part of it
a writer of poetry
chooses his words like the feathers an arrow
strategically creating the perfect balance
allowing it to pierce the air with ease
striking you straight through the heart
the mind
the soul
the poisoned tip assaulting you from the inside out
like an enemy coursing through your blood stream
penetrating your defenses before you know what hit you
no matter the weapon the writer chooses
should his aim be true
he'll bring you to your knees
breathless
with the beauty he ignites
or
the darkness he inflicts
dVerse~Poets Pub presents Meeting the Bar: Critique and Craft this evening. in doing so, they have asked us to write about poetry. i wasn't sure i was going to join in the fun, but while driving home (as is often where my brain kicks into gear) my brain began to travel back to this pondering of poetry. i'm not particularly fond of writing poetry while driving...trying to remember the way the words fit so perfectly in your head when finally being able to sit with pencil and paper or fingers and keyboard is not the easiest of things to do. i lost the word ignite (used in the third to last line) for quite some time while driving along. eventually it popped back into my head at which point i had to repeat it over and over again in my head with 'inflict' so i'd remember them when i finally made it home. anyway, time is running out so i best be on my way to the pub before they make last call.
this letting of words is my treatment...my salvation. it pulls all the toxins from my mind, body, and soul.
My newest adventure is underway. It has lead me to take up residency in a new blog, Like the Feathers of an Arrow (affectionately known as LFA). ...don't open...don't throw away... is not disappearing completely (not yet), but postings here will be limited. |
Friday, September 30, 2011
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
3 Navigating Life
Navigating Life
It's amazing how easy it is
to get lost on autopilot;
walking through life half-asleep;
eyes open before the alarm rings,
yet not really open.
Time passes in the blink of an eye
and we don't even blink.
How did things get like this?
an internal GPS controlling every turn;
recalculating the best route
with every obstacle life throws across the path.
Time flies by without a care in the world
and we don't even seem to care.
It's amazing how easy it is
to get caught in the daily flow;
mindlessly making decisions;
forgetting who we are
and the destination we had planned.
my humble offerings to dVerse~Poets Pub's OpenLinkNight...where poets come to share, listen, inspire, and drink in the spirit of poetry....
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