I am waiting for a poem
To fly in through the window
Introduce itself and decide to stick around for a while
Or one to sneak into the room
Shifty eyed
And plant itself on my paper when I’m not looking
I'd take in a homeless poem
Down on its luck
Or a sick poem
And with some revisions I’d nurse it back to health
I'd prefer it not to be with someone already
Or it to be well to do
It can come in stumbling drunk for all I care
And I won't question how it got here
Because right now
I am waiting for a poem
And I’m getting pretty desperate…
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4 comments:
Ashley...I love this for its simplicity, its accuracy, and its use of personification!
I love it!
i got a blank page,
a head full of rage,
about 8 shots of god knows what
every hour for the past 3 days
my hands are shaking
i'm barely awake and
i'm staring at this blank page.
blue lines on a soapy dish
because every line i write seems to slide right off it
I erase and cross out
revise and revise
rip crumble toss tear
and begin the process again.
where do i start
how do i end
and what goes in between both of them?
I'm staring at this blank page
void but blue lines
I'm gonna bow to this and say I look forward to writing along side you and the rest of writing center this year. We're swinging into full gear!
(Well. We are once we start writing in writing center. xD)
~ Anthony
Ashley, my dear, I do believe you've found yourself a poem. It has arrived, beautifully.
Love,
-joanna
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