October 27th

i have become an old book -

     dog-eared pages, water stained cover,

i am weathered from too many readings

 

fumbling fingers have followed my lines,

brushed the once black ink from my skin,

     thin as parchment paper - now -

 

my words have all run together,

     paint upon paint until

i am more muted shadow than shape

 

i attempt to season the leftovers

     of half-written poetry -  al dente imagery,

too firm to mold and too soft to exist

without teetering between unyielding similes

 

i am the ashes of bravado, the skeleton of pride,

seven layers of dust on a desk with one short leg

     propped up by the folded pages

of a manuscript that will never be more

     than what it is right now

Reviews

[DrD]

I like it when a poet's imagination pours out over a page, forcing the reader to see it exactly as it first appeared in her mind. You have done this and done it well. Enjoyed it very much.

[Astro]

I can identify with this piece more than many of yours as the writer with promise resigned to be a caretaker of unfinished brilliance, the wearer of uncut diamonds sleeping beneath the stage he was meant to star on. I know there is a secondary allusion of life wearing away at the finely tuned machine that can still work but is badly in need of a tune up. These two things may not resound with everyone, but they have touched me in their reading and for that I am grateful and witness that you haven't lost it yet. ;)

[Rafia ~ Yellow Girl]

Why is the person being so pessimist... I guess a rough bump on the journey of life is the reason or something...?
This one is so sad and it speaks so much... and Beautiful.

[Girl Friday (Sarah W.)]

Sometimes all we have is our tragedy...but there is always light to be found somewhere; it just doesn't always come out in a poem. Thank you, my friend!

[Girl Friday (Sarah W.)]

Old books love are the best, they smell so wonderful... ha! at least I am an old book sniffer, ask my dad lol.... he thinks I'm crazy.

You have slurped so much into you, as a sponge, and a person so eager to learn.
Sometimes the brain can't anymore, it needs rest...

Silence is golden then, when there are a thousand unspoken words.... they shall land, when time is right, they will, and there is a voice again, (we have to accept the silence now and then).

So beautifully written this piece, I truly recognize a lot of myself in it.
To be one with your bones, is good.

They should not turn into dust, but they must re-strengten...

To be in the now, and accept it, is art... I think you're great Sarah, you just let it "be".
in this one....

- Elisa

[Girl Friday (Sarah W.)]

I too am in love with old books...I have WAY too many of them. Thank you so much for your love, my friend!

Haha me too, even on my toilet, that explains how goofy and dorky I am... ;) always love xx

[I Am Svetlana]

I have felt like this these past few days...like a worn out book, like some ashes left behind. Some days I am pretty confident in myself, but other days, simple things can bring me way down and kill every feeling I may have. Even if I am having the best days, it can be killed in an instant. Hence why I am always prepared for it...I don't like self-doubting myself, but I don't like how constantly I am doubted and put down by those around me. Why can't people see and appreciate any effort that I put into anything I do? It's a constant day-to-day struggle that I somehow manage to get through. I don't get it.

[Night]

You are anything but a worn out book, perhapes you were writing about someone else? Self doubt is something everybody has felt, so I can most certainly relate. You presented a tired, trambled soul whispering despair and collecting dust...well done as usual Sarah!

[Rita L. Sev]

Though I can feel the writer's anguish, the frustration at trying to get it all "just right", I am astounded by the fact that this poem is that, and so much more. That last stanza reads like a desperate lament, the author ready to just walk away... until it calls her back, to blow off the dust and have another go with some fresh-cut flavors... Superb write, Sarah - or should I say "done to perfection"? :)

[asdarkeyesclose]

i think we all have dark moments of self-doubt. you are such a strong poet that i'm surprised you feel this way but i liked the extended metaphor and that you drew it to its natural conclusion. sometimes we need to just run with an idea. as poets we need to constantly reinvent ourselves, always try to be cutting edge and original and this can take its toll, i think poets have to be very brave and stretch the boundaries. another brilliant poem.

[Donald Meikle]

and I thought I was down and done!
Seven layers of dust on a desk with one short leg

was smiling wrinkles
propped up by folded pages,,,,,,,,,,,,,
provoked a much needed wet eyed grin

[Ken Simm.]

You have once again taken atmosphere and painted it. I am agog.