Wednesday, January 23, 2008

THIS IS NOT A POEM

(THIS IS AN EXCUSE)

“New poems, new poems”
      the plaintive cry
But, despite my hazes of fancy
      fuelled by elixirs of magic in life
The words, harnessed by pen
      Mock me.

Images so pale and lifeless
      compared to their siblings of freedom
Fluttering in the rafters of my mind.

I sit and, sketching lazily
      the city skyline
      so muted by
            the screen of nature
            the mirage of distance
            the lens of perspective.


They flock down from their perches
And fan the flames of the muse
Turn my dry words of wrapping
      into an inferno, that
            mortal that I am
      I cannot grasp.
Tiny flames taking hold
      mesmerise me.

Hypnotised I cannot tear my pen
From that foolish attempt to get it all
      in minutiae.

“Step back” my logical mind screeches
      but it has made so few speeches
            in my recent past
      that this warning is but a whisper
            to my rapture.

“New poems” is the cry
      and they crowd around my mind
            beating time
      yet ever unfocussed on a distant plain

This page has not yet pinned them down.

© Sophie Jean 1998

3 comments:

Jen at Semantically driven said...

Ah, but this is a start.

The Brave said...

I agree with Jen and in my opinion, that was pretty bloody fantastic. I loved that, honestly. The idea of simple words becoming inflamed and enlivened. My brain is also screaming for new poems and for the life of me I have niether focus nor time to deeply reflect or connect right now, so it has all fallen by the wayside. This was my reason for holding off from starting the new blog, I just didn't think I had the head space to deliver quality right now, but then again, it is said that one shoudl try to write creatively once a day and I wasn't even allowing myself that. you'll get there. I think whe stuff is going one it really is difficult to get back into that head space and dig deep for the right words, for teh right meaning. I woudl encourage you to carry a note book so you can capture that inpirational piece of thought and do carry your camera in your purse so you can take away that image that made you marvel at the world. I used to do that and now I don't. I have noticed the difference. When untethered, meaning gets lost on the current of life and drowns somewhere later, upstream andunseen. I so enjoyed reading your poem and the post that went before it. Thank you for writing it.

katef said...

I don't know much about poetry but I know that made me think and smile.. I like!