I Wanted To ComposeA Poem by Brooke WakeMetapoetry. I dig it.I thought of an idea For an endearing, narrative poem About the uncomplicated beauty Of the human condition Just the other day Virtuous words and sweet, anecdotal images Concerning mantras for living a Taoist life, For painting your entire house white, And your cat entirely blue. Erupting from reason that comes from a small, Pleasant, but nearly subconscious Memory About a humongous slice of apple Pie that I inhaled, (melting ice cream replete), As a not-quite-weight-conscious six-year (sixteen?) old, Plate nearly bigger than my head, At some broken down pecan grove shack. All I can remember are the apples " Titles or locations mean not a thing. I wanted to compose Something reaching for enlightenment in poemdom A few eloquent, memorable words, To remind myself… Of how a child I know sounded As though she had discovered walking For the first time, As she bounced along the patiently Trotting mare, Beside me But hell if I could conjure Magic enough to resound Blooming sensations within my chest. Feelings do not care about words. Even more I wish to elocute the subtle, Simple, spiritual breathing of winds through Weeping willows, Rising tide of crimson sky, shadowed cloud Questioning dreams that perhaps my soul knows But my truant mind does not, cannot Put into language that has never been tapped From a mind that has never Felt the jaws of a trap. Lifted into ideas Where truth is no more than air My pen stops here.
© 2010 Brooke WakeReviews
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Added on August 19, 2010Last Updated on August 19, 2010 AuthorBrooke WakeOlympiaAboutAnecdotal tea parties and laying around on the floor. Bare light bulbs and red, spacious, manual transportation. Cats and garlic. Mountains and words. The narrow spaces between us. Do not copy .. more..Writing
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