Only two days left to go! As I try and think of what I'll go onto next - and yeah, i know what it is - part of me almost doesn't want this to end. And another part of me says "Oh thank the gods I don't have to think every day!" And so I am equal parts happy and sad. I entertained the idea of maybe not stoping at the end of the month, and seeing how far I could ride this poem idea out...maybe another year, I'll try it. But not this one.
But enough talk of it being over - for now, it's ON!!!!!!
The Path of the Writer
Flying - space and time meaningless
in the search,
eyes closed, breathing normal,
before this strange passenger,
images flash and burn,
forever impreinted in their vague identity.
Such are the visions of inspiration,
sights no man can tell, though though we must try.
We know not why, only that it must be told,
from the beginning of the search until at last it narrows down to a point,
and all that exists, all that live beyond must be put down.
It is a drive the writer will never understand.
He hopes only that after the dust settles, it will leave his vision clear to those who may read.
Yeah - this is probably a little too bland compared to most of what I've written, but what can you do? Sometimes life hands you a bland day, and all you can do is go along with it.
Thanks for reading!
The Fat Kid
1 comment:
I was intrigued by the title. This almost seems to me a nice proto-poem, a place where you generated some feelings and thoughts - that even if they were not fully formed yet, would bear exploration at some further date. The contemplative nature of this piece reminds me of some earlier American poetry, not quite pastoral but rather exploratory, a journey of the within. But then again, isn't that ultimately the path of the writer anyway?
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