CONVERSATIONS OF PROCESS
I.
I sat down to write
but my sofa was uncomfortable
where to begin this process
of conversations
with myself?
with the clouds gathered
outside my city windows,
I put my pen down
waiting for first lines
which never come
when wanted
the little buggers
shadows watched me
waiting to ask
‘why dont you just give up
come now, walk out’
I frowned
ignored them,
fumbling with metaphors
lined up to chastise me
with their picket signs
graffiti in blacks and blues,
let’s see
old masters said
‘pause, think, pause
write, erase...continue’
madness had her say
for a minute
then went away
with her shopping cart
her smelly rags,
step by step
following through to eternity
poem out of chaos
no that won’t do
erase, begin, erase
again and again
I looked outside
wanting to see interminable
darkness but all that remained
was a smiling sun with his army of rays
laughing, hooting
I shut my curtains
sipped coffee
looking to my blank paper
these borders between creative everything
or whistling debacles
a dull poetry,
closing my eyes
I imagine heaven’s sigh
as hints of disaster
waiting to read each line
that could come
walking out sun had turned dark
wet hours came and stayed
meeting with raindrops and their sayings
from some far off world
I’ll never see,
searching for a word
to write, to start it all
but it’s all echoes and whispers
among strangers, flowers,
dimensions in flesh
from a beauty passing away
these endless musings
by paper, by ink
falling all over me
on me the weight of creativity
with all her slashes, quips, frowns,
I wish history and her soul
would meet
declaiming some status
with verse, in books
is that all?
help! help! help!
when will a full line come
a great poem?
II.
Process it’s all process
said the rain, speaking again
I didn’t listen
but stayed among flowers
autumn will mother winter
then all will be well,
how slowly my heart passes
from intuition
to completed nothing
my page is a face
reflecting back
an idea uncaught
by my typing along
holes made of another heart
without pause
carrying it all to a last stanza!
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