Thoughts destined to be washed away by the tides of life. |
Came across this partial poem hiding in an untitled document file. Date on it is September 2, 2012. No idea what it was written for, no idea what the prompt was, that is. It was probably written for Helium. It was in a folder entitled "Endings" but I didn't write down the prompts within that category. I am assuming it was about old age, an older couple no longer communicating, and the empty nest. This was my final attempt To reach into your attention span Which you keep behind your newspaper Rustling pages one over another Wrestling with headlines. grimacing at the arrows on the stock page This was my final attempt To escape the emptiness of rooms Where no homework is done to Top 40 hits Where the ghosts of childhood hang In faded posters and gold-starred reports being slowly buried in years of dust They say "write what you know" but that's not always possible. Sometimes you run out of what you know. And then there are prompts and you've got to make something up. For some reason, people assume all poetry to be autobiograhical. I guess that's because everyone goes through that teenage poetic angst phase. But I don't think poetry has to represent actual experiences. For instance, I don't believe Wordsworth really wandered lonely as a cloud. I dont know - he might have wandered, he might have been lonely - but I don't think he was floating across the sky. Poets work to make the common seem extraordinary, but it's all in our heads and overly excitable imaginations. |