When the words don’t come easy When inspiration evades me When I must gouge every word from my bound and stitched mouth When the rhythm’s distorted When the rhyme pattern is thwarted When confidence is eroded by crippling self-doubt When I shrink before mastery When my skill is unsatisfactory When my fountain of words is foundered by drought That’s when I lay my soul bare That’s when I let myself care That’s when what I put there on the table is me It’s my heart, soul and body It’s what pushes and drives me I’m a poet, a writer, and words set me free.
Here’s my latest entry into the dVerse Meeting the Bar. This week, Gay is asking us to reflect on ourselves, think about how we talk, what we say, reveal a little piece of us in poetry form. I confess, I found this tough, tough, tough. This year, life in the Freya world has been turned upside down, and then all the pieces put back in some form of random order, so I’m not really sure who this ‘me’ is. I think I’m at a chrysalis stage, just deciding what butterfly I’m going to be (positive spin, do you see?).
So, I’m not sure if I fulfil the brief, but better some words than none at all. I do use the language, it sounds typically British as well, I feel (a bit stilted, somewhat diffident, perhaps)?
Do visit the other poets who take part in this wonderful community… you’re in for a treat!
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– Threshold –
Being at a crossroads Or maybe halted by a sudden fork, not sure which direction I’ll follow, even where the turn will take me when I blink and look again – I’m not sure of myself Nor do I understand which me I am. The work me is part of it But what is the other me like? How do I behave? What do I do, or say, differently when the responsibility is sloughed off as I walk through the front door? Some days, I bring it home. Not my work concerns per se Just the demeanour. I think it’s time for a reinvention. Long overdue, frivolity has been a stranger at my door. Perhaps with jollity’s return, the prospect of a new beginning
won’t leave that taste of fear on my tongue. The taste that stops the words seeping out.