The Brain of A Splintered Poet

I'd like to write a poem
perhaps just one a day
but there is something
in my brain
that just won't work that way.

My phone is filled with snippets
of my imagery of thought
something's definitely missing,
where dormant words
lie tied up all in knots.

I want to be a poet
who is committed to the craft
yet there too many times
the void is filled
with words that quietly amass.

I want to be THAT poet
who cannot put the pen down
Instead I am a visitor
where I swim
but don't quite drown.

But life has taught me clearly
you don't get what you want
so when words escape me
I let them fly beyond
yet still I hear that taunt;

that this will be the last one
the last one that I'll write
and all those swirled emotions
will surely abandon me
some inky stinky night.

I want to be a poet,
spin out my words of dance
but tied to tubes and wires
this light poetic coma is
an endless white room trance.

I''d like to write a poem
perhaps just one a day
but there is something
in my brain
that just won't work that way.

Reviews

[kublakhan27]

Boy do I relate to this one, perhaps more than any other poem you've ever written...I envy the ones who can pick up a pen at any time and just will a poem into being...my brain just doesn't work that way either...you've articulated it so well here, and the great irony of it is that you've done it in a picture-perfect piece...the flow and rhymes and wordplay all come together and compliment each other beautifully...stanza four was particularly affecting, but every verse is full of truly unique analogies...I don't always get what I want, especially on this site, but slowly but surely I'm becoming appreciative of the fact that I do get what I need, in the form of a miniscule group of friends that offer me their unwavering support...I never feel like a mainstream figure around here, but I gradually becoming okay with that...awesome work my friend, definitely a favourite.

[icelandicblue]

That my friend is one stellar review. We all work differently toward the same end and it's ok...usually.

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

Oh I know how you feel, life gets in the way of the things we love sometimes… but wether part of full time, a poet is a poet and you cannot take that away from the artist.

[icelandicblue]

Thanks so much Dale. We are what we are.

[The Rock And Roll Cowboy(REBEL WITH A CAUSE)]

And we can't be no more and should never be any less.

[Baby Ricochet]

We all have times of brilliance as well as dry spells. It's the nature of the beast

[icelandicblue]

It is a roller coaster ride indeed.

[Pryde Foltz]

I want to be THAT poet
who cannot put the pen down
Instead I am a visitor
where I swim
but don't quite drown.

The muses work differently for all of us, I think. I never sit down to write a poem. The muses either push me down or not. So nice to have your words back here, Anne.

[icelandicblue]

Thank you Pryde. I appreciate that. It is nice to see you again.

[Einstein Noodle]

oh man! Icey! i love this .. we are simpatico in the plight .. words and phrases jotted in furious seconds .. while walking , talking, and crawling like a reptile ..hundreds more escape to the nether .. but how we love that moment when it comes together .. for whatever climax it may be .. nice job .. thoroughly enjoyed reading ..
E.

[icelandicblue]

Thanks so much Einstein. Always a good thing when you read one of my poems. ; )

[therisa]

I think, poetry is, capturing that brief moment in time, with words. It can't be forced or bribed to appear before us. Many times, I have stared, at a blank page or computer screen, pulling my hair out, in frustration, as the words refuse to come forth, and share themselves, with me. Or have multiple pages,
filled with incomplete thoughts, I never return to. Wondering, what the heck, was I thinking of.

Maybe, with this rant, your muse will return, fully charged, with new and exciting ideas, which she/he will share with you. A great write on this subject. Just wish you didn't have to experience this.

[icelandicblue]

Ah those blank spaces sometimes need to remain blank for a while. I am not sure it's always a bad thing but we always want what we don't have. Thanks so much therisa for such a thoughtful response.

[therisa]

Your welcome, Icelandicblue.

[NoelHC]

I related well to the phone filled with snippets part, that is where I store bare bones of ideas. Sometimes they gel months later like my "Time" I published the other day, other times I look and wonder what that note was even about.
Well described here, that frustration, that difficulty in getting these ideas on to paper or screen.

[icelandicblue]

It is not as easy as it looks LOL. Thank you so much for sharing your process. I read some of notes too and wonder what the heck was that supposed to be? I'll check out your poem Time and thanks again.

[NoelHC]

Yup, if writing was easy, everyone would be doing it! Time is probably not my best effort, please explore. Phone and Beyond seem to speak to many readers. Please send me some of your faves to look over.

[Frieda P]

I love this to pieces Anne...the frustration within the poetry of life itself.

'swim
but don't quite drown' Oh so many times, we bob around in our own misfortune and mindset.

So many grand lines, love 'poetic coma'...you ARE indeed a poet, no ifs, and's or but's about it!

[icelandicblue]

Thanks Frieda...I go through such dry spells and they are not writer's block. I just don't feel like writing and when I do write I wondered how on earth I went so long without jotting down a word. It is like a poetic coma...I'm happy you liked that.

[Frieda P]

I'd go bloody batty if I didn't write, there have been times when I felt that way, and I wanted to take a flying leap, or drown as you so aptly pen'd it....