Sunday, November 6, 2005

Poetry Carnival 11/13

Poetry Carnival
11/13

Ars Poetica


Let it be a draining of pus
from infected palms, wounded
by the blunt edges of your own
spoiled and sod-soiled nails.

Let it be passion, tempered by wit,
cooled in the afterglow of October Elms.

Remind it of silence, sound and
the harmony found in unspoken lyrics.

Chastise its quietude,
reprimand its resonance
then lay it lovingly
in the arms of the morning glory.

At first, it will wilt with its caretakers
in the brash light of noon. Bind it up.

Whip it like a child, stern, but with grace,
borrowed from a willow switch,
and soon magic will sing, sublime,
with the night-jasmine breath it sighs.

6 comments:

  1. God, Erin, that's just beautiful.

    I love your writing. It's just that simple to say.

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  2. Well thank you Carla!

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  3. well chosen words to intrigue the mind and hunger for more

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  4. Inspiring, Erin, and beautifully written...

    Sometimes I do feel like the process of writing is a bit like the draining of pus... but also the release of passion...

    All in all a very nice piece

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  5. Each part carries so much truth. But I am especially intrigued by the last stanza and these lines:

    Whip it like a child, stern, but with grace,
    borrowed from a willow switch,
    and soon magic will sing, sublime...


    To me that means, a necessary discipline must brought to bear on our writing to bring it to the level of magic and song. I love that thought!

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  6. Passion tempered by wit- that's the stuff!

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