The Bereavement of Words

 I'll leave you to your ivory tower

surrounded by your books

drowning in the ink

of a thousand unwritten pages

that flows about the floor.

 

Your letters wilt in your hand

the A aboished, its pieces melting

in B's primordial bog

You can't tame them anymore

now bereft of your muse. 

 

Wretched and haggard you scribble

trying to keep the pen in your hand

your arthritic fingers 

once kempt and perfect, tremble

made rough from inumerable paper cuts. 

 

Your eyes are no longer clear

fogged over from sleepless nights

the nights I listened 

with bated breath

for your pacing to cease on the marble above. 

 

I cannot save you from your mind

It is yours, and yours alone

your beast to tame,

or yours to kill

its emptyness is not of my doing.

 

Blame me not. 

Author's Note

Slightly inspired by Ernest Hemingway.

Reviews

[demureminds]

Loved the language in this. Amazing imagery and use of description. Great work

[Antonio Valentino]

i wish there was a pill to induce writers block.. i could use the rest..

thoroughly enjoyed

:)

[Elaenor Aisling]

Thanks! :)

[Antonio Valentino]

you are most welcome :)

[Eloha]

At first this was sort of mythical to me and finally psychological. I can see how literature inspired this. The title is also most excellent.

[marie]

i love the way you can keep this written in such a way that we can almost reach out and touch the people within the words

[BrynnaW.]

Such a beautiful description from the very start. The flow was clean and the imagery was very vivid. Probably one of my favorite poems I have ever read. A magnificent poem in my opinion and definitely a masterpiece. Wonderfully done and keep on writing!

[R J Askew]

I bought some more ink only this morning. There is always a grand moment when you open the little box with the blue-black Quink cartridges in it. What words are in this liquid, we wonders? What an adventure finding out.

I esp like the last verse here and smikred at the first line of it. We have nooooo intention of ever being saved from our mind, even if, eps if perhaps, it repels everyone else. When that heppens and we are alone with our various selves, then and only then, can we fully enjoy our minds. And it must never ever be tamed!

You got my mind working there as I chewed over your nourishing words.

[The Jay]

It's quite wonderful the way that you've managed to carry the rhythm throughout the whole poem.
The final stanza is quite sublime.

[kmartell]

a good well hung together poem. Words are often the nemisis of creativity.

[Patrick]

Done ever so well to create a dark mood and tone - love the choice and words "once kempt and perfect, tremble..."