Poet Works the Page
I need stronger verbs to plunk
in perfect spots, metaphors
to materialize, deeper knowledge
of anything – geology, mythology,
maybe fishing. But all I have
is my little life. Loves lost and gained,
daughter raised, my regular rhythm
of decent sleep, healthy food,
reading and writing, working
just enough to pay the bills, keeping
my roots dyed. I know there is poetry
around and in between, if I can find it.
Words for the taste of blackberries
or mangoes, for example, for
the courage of winter crocuses,
the juiciness of thick paint on the brush.
For sun sliding across thin spring stems
of shamrock, for the memory of my mother’s
face powder, Misty Rose. There must
be dream-terms for passing through
light, for the passion of flamenco.
I keep working at it. I really do. Even now,
with the sound of the washer beating against
my poet-brain and the bills calling to be counted, I do.
10 thoughts on "Poet Works the Page"
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“… I know there is poetry
around and in between, if I can find it.”
Ain’t that the truth .. you capture what any and every poet thinks when confronted with the blank screen or paper
Kevin
“sun sliding across thin spring stems/of shamrock” –lucky us to experience your craft!
Love, love, love this one! It’s always fun to see writing about writing. <3
Inspiring, Linda! I too wonder what there is in “my little life,” as you call yours, to write about. But like you, I keep at it. It’s all, or mostly all, we can do. Something Eudora Welty said does occur to me from time to time. “I’ve lived an adventurous life,” she told a reporter, “in my mind.”
It’s been a pleasure to read your work this month. I think we can all relate to this poem. I love your images here, and the verbs: plunk, sliding, passing through, beating…
juiciness !! Yes! Read this article today, we learn not only with our minds but bodies and through community . Think of the tentacles of an octopus and what it takes in through them
Wow Pat — octopus was in my earlier draft! With regard to octopus perception/consciousness, I hope you saw the 2020 film My Octopus Teacher.
Nicely done. This is a poem that calls out, “More, more poetry from you pen!”
So many of these poets have said it for me – but I love the imagery and langauge! I have to tell you, I chuckled and actually paused at “keeping my roots” and discarded “dyed” – as a lovely twist. You are “keeping your roots” alive with this nourishment!
All our detractions, yet we still keep writing because someday we might find the words to describe “passing through light”. Yes! We do!