My Words, My World

First drafts – A few pages in the large wilderness of the world of writing

Archive for the month “September, 2014”

Just words?

One recent lunchtime I was sitting, waiting for my quesadilla, with every intention of jotting down some potential copywriting ideas – I completed a course not too long ago and I really want to pursue that direction on a professional level.  Anyway, it just wouldn’t happen; nothing came when I put pencil to paper except the opening two lines of this.  Between waiting for and eating the aforementioned quesadilla, the rest of the piece followed.  I suppose you could call it a reluctant poem, as it certainly wasn’t my intention to write it, but as nothing else came I gave in to the flow.

The book is open, the pencil in hand
The eyes stare at black lines on white,
waiting for the muse to turn on the light
What to write? What to write?
Perched over a fissure, under pressure
An abyss awaits, mind contemplates

I did not intend to write this,
this poem, this rhyme
This scribbled tribute to the sublime
Gift of words; the words we use
To communicate
Our love, our hate
Pleasure, displeasure
How are you my treasure?

Spoken words may be forgotten
From the written word may be begotten
A declaration; of love, of war
Of the suffering who can take no more.

Letters by sages
Indented onto pages
A permanent reminder
Of words that can bind you
That seek and find you
And you lay open the page
As you lay open your heart
With thoughts transmitted and thoughts transcribed
As into your book you care to confide
All that you feel, and can’t keep inside

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You are reality

The heart doesn’t flutter;
it hammers, in my chest.
On the train,
the rolling motion,
my rolling emotions,
as the station nears.
The final stop; full stop.

Months in the waiting,
weeks in the planning
and my heart beats the seconds
that pass, too fast.

Am I the only one
alive in this carriage?
This miscarriage of humanity.
Where is the humanity?
Talk to me!
You! The Ipod girl,
in front of Ipad man,
beside Facebook boy
and Candy Crush sister.

Ah! Enough of them.
I’ve been drawn to meet you,
talk to you and kiss you.
As I hold your letter.
A LETTER!
Words on a once-tree,
the Parker Pen veins
stand out, draw me in.
As you stand in the rain,
black brolly Polly,
dark as mystery,
deep as a desert night
but not so old,
nor so cold.

Sand stinging, hand wringing
a nervous encounter,
here at the counter
of the coffee bar.
Spoons clink and rattle
And our nerves finally settle.

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