Thursday, September 18, 2008

Pushing The Wall

I’ve never mastered poetry,
though I’ve written hundreds.
The keys click, click again
like a street mime pushing,
pushing, pushing the wall
and then some more.

There’s resolution,
even initial satisfaction, but
the wall is still there, and
the stones of the last poem
turn to dust and blow away.

20 comments:

Art Is Life, Life Is Art said...

YES!!!! I know how that is...Very well said! Absolutely wonderful work!! :o)

Janice Thomson said...

I do understand that last verse oh so well.
Your poetry though is unique - I so enjoy coming here :)

Masago said...

Ah, but they are etched in the Google archives forever... digital dust?

Yansidara said...

i think most of us, relate to your poem. although very few could do a better job, you mastered this poem.

J. Andrew Lockhart said...

"I’ve never mastered poetry"? Who do you think you're kidding! :)
(I know how you feel, though. I've often felt the same about me...)

Elena said...

I love your image of the street mime pushing the wall.
Very graceful visuals here, Pat, which only a true poet could create! Glad to be back and reading your work again. And I do know what you mean. I think we all feel this at times.

Rethabile said...

What Mr. Lockhart sez.

sage said...

Well done, it's nice to be able to catch a morsel or two from you each month

cyclopseven said...

....the stones of the last poem
turn to dust and blow away...this is good.

Amalendu said...

I feel your words...so well said....

Lynne said...

Who of us has tamed the beast, truly "mastered" what is larger than us? Semantics...striving...reaching...perfecting The creative challenge, as in any art form, is in the process and that magnetic journey to continue to write "like a street mime pushing, pushing, pushing the wall."

I have always enjoyed your unique poetry to the max!

(BTW, this is "Gel" of Emerald Eyes: note new name and blog).

gulnaz said...

you mix up the commonplance with the wise and serve it up warm and wonderful.
its the last verse which says it all.

Devika said...

Pushing the wall so the stones blow away more forcefully?

But I always felt the last verse happening, Pat. Unique poetic sense, as Janice said..

I just have a stone thrown and blown back on me..

First two blogs updated..the first touchs the US..so would love your view and review...Please do come when you get time.

btw, hope you remember me..You once came over...and made my day!

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

Pat,
I would say you have matered this wonderful art.This poem was perfect. It had a beginning, middle, and end. Not to mention it made me want to read more of your writtend works.

softlove,
T

SweetTalkingGuy said...

This is cool! I'm coming back for more..

firebird said...

The way I see it, Pat--it's the adventure of pushing the wall that is so satisfying about writing poetry--and seeing it move to your touch!
What would life be if the wall came down? Empty, I think.

By the way--hope you are well, just busy--hurry back!

Bill said...

Chaucer: "the life so short, the craft so long to learn (The lyf so short, the craft so longe to lerne)"

This may go back to Hippocrates.

gautami tripathy said...

Where are you? We miss you.

Rethabile said...

Enjoyed your poetry over at the Concelebratory Shoehorn Review. Bravo.

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

Where oh where are you Pat. I wish to drink your words once again. I hope all is well.

Soft love,
T