“suddenly I noticed the silence” this morning was not a great day for writing more reflection than myself scribbling these streams of morning rays, hoping for a pay day comes when it has too, but as long as the buzz saw of an air conditioner, the dog next door sounds of a growling saxophone no, not a good day to contain myself in the perimeter of squares in time, for the muse flies into this great mysticism, this requiem of other people and their noises, and then the verse is blank, nothing strike my sense less is more so I came up with this or that with the brevity of complaint, maybe a lament but content on finding suitable objects to worship, purchase a self-help guide for the writer, the pseudo-psycho-social economic condition; live with the pretension claiming some great elegy or phrase that has not been written, leaving the rhyme behind me on the other side of the door but before all of this is the silence, the blinding fact is I can not write, can not fight the inner critic that encourages but disturbs, the silence of stealing David Bottom’s line to create this poem so really it is never mine to claim so it leaves like the morning with the baggage down the compact, or sizzles of compost, the glorious and delicious nothing- ness.
Posted on: Fri, 27 Sep 2013 02:23:32 +0000
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