When Metaphors Are Dead

Inspired by Jacob erin-cilberto's poem 'when format is all we have'.

When metaphors are dead 

with no songbirds in sight 

to lighten the morn' of a 

scorching October day, 

and not even the water 

trickling down the fingers 

has that desired effect.

When thoughts and emotions 

get muddled like a cat 

running wild with a half-finished

patchwork quilt.

Still, words spill themselves, 

erratic, as we stroke our egos,

euphoric, that we have penned 

something brilliant...

awaiting to be read. 

Author's Note

The last few lines are directed at self than on anyone else. Thank you for reading.

Reviews

[An owl on the moon]

Your words create such an October place, with a stillness, with a lingering warmth from summer still sliding over your tongue. One can feel the creative seed coming to life in you, the joy as each word is born into another. I always find myself awaiting the reading of more of you, dear Yumna.

[Dr. YumnaKay]

Thank you so much for appreciating this one, Craig. The feeling's mutual, my friend. x

[angel]

The metaphors aren't dead, although some people do seem intent on killin' 'em... you know what I mean?
It's like that cat of yours, running wild with a half- finished patchwork quilt... I suspect HE carried 'em off...

[Dr. YumnaKay]

That would be me, yeah. I suck at metaphors :x
It's good running after that cat though ;)read moreThat would be me, yeah. I suck at metaphors :x
It's good running after that cat though ;)
Thanks so much for your words here, angel. Appreciated.

[Relic]

Quite often, we think highly of what we have written, and sometimes others agree. Other times, they don't. Regardless, its the joy of creating that directs our attention away from any possible disagreeable factors until we've woken from the excitement and enjoyment of writing.

I guess It's as though a spirit overtakes us and we're along for the ride knowing the end result will be good.

Just my take. :)

[Dr. YumnaKay]

I agree with your take on this, Tim. It's the same for me. Often, when I write, the initial excitement at writing something meaningful (in my opinion) quickly fades away and I end up disappointed anyway. Guess we always keep wanting more, pushing ourselves to the limit and exhausting ourselves...
Thank you so much for your thoughts here. Appreciated :)

[Gypsy Warrior Queen]

You are the songbird that sings of the scorching October sky, bringing water to our cracked lips as we willfully toil on this quilted world. You, my dear, are a brilliance that shines in the eyes of the poet, mused. A blessing in euphoria

[Dr. YumnaKay]

Your words here are lovely and humbling. Thank you so much, Queenie. As always, appreciated. x