I've written about finding a broken pencil with only a few words left in it ... the frantic search for a scrap of paper ... any tiny piece will do ... to write down an idea before it flits away ... the hurdles, the barriers, the great feeling of success. All about writing.
It's not that I consider myself an expert on writing. Far from it. I continue to be mystified by the process ... curious about how ... and why ... poems sometimes come sneaking up on me ... but not baffled ... no, I would not say baffled ... not completely, any way.
"Tulsa or Bust" is also about a writing.
As you may note, writing about writing sometimes takes some strange turns on the road to completion and eventual publication, in this instance in ByLine Magazine:
TULSA OR BUST
The paper's dry,
drier than
my driest poems,
threatening
to shatter,
turn to dust,
so I must write
quickly, softly,
cautiously,
choosing only
fluffy, light
subjects like
a "Wash Me"
written large
on the back
of a truck
lumbering
toward Tulsa.
©
1999***
Today's word: lumbering
Afterthoughts ... in response to your comments:
Oh, thank you, Helen ... but know what I always say: So much depends on what the reader brings to the poem ... I guess I could add, and what the watercolor painter brings to the paper. I like those "happy accidents" which sometimes occur ... and appreciate the other kind, too, for what they teach me about the ever-challenging pursuit.
And thanks, Kelly, for "ephemeral" ... which, I suppose, could've been today's word.
2 comments:
Your poems always make me think...even if it's about watercolor painting when that isn't the subject at all. I need to go gently into a painting this time...I haven't painted lately. The paper is waiting, and maybe one will sneak up on me..but nothing profound.
Ephemeral ;)
Post a Comment