Inspiration Is a Capricious Guest

The poet of this afternoon died suddenly at end of night,

jostling to pen a word, yawning bile in the long

run-up to the creep of dawn pebble-dashing the curtains.

Knuckled under weight of forms, proof of income, applications

flung in free tote bags he cannot begin to classify,

he’d like to burn but who has fireplaces nowadays, so instead

he snatches at garbled predictive jottings made in ghostly glow,

leave no strand untwisted, no word untravelled,

no innocence.

Divine dictations long since ceased, words do not meet the ear

ready-formed like birdsong. It’s digging in the garden,

toiling in manure for a speck of solid rock.

 

Linking this up to my favourite poetic forum on the internet the dVerse Poets Pub, with their fortnightly Open Link Night.

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32 thoughts on “Inspiration Is a Capricious Guest”

  1. “Knuckled under weight of forms, proof of income, applications

    flung in free tote bags he cannot begin to classify,”

    All the stuff of life that gets in the way of our true vocation. SMH. You describe it so well, MS!

  2. This is really cool. I especially like this:

    “run-up to the creep of dawn pebble-dashing the curtains.”

  3. Well done! I so enjoyed this poem about writing poetry – and all the stuff that gets in the way. Those tote bags! I bet I have a thousand of the things or at least, I’ve dropped them off t the Goodwill Store near here. You have truly found the best metaphors. And this poem is why I miss you so much at dVerse.

  4. So it is, smiles ~ Love this metaphor of writing to:

    It’s digging in the garden,

    toiling in manure for a speck of solid rock.

  5. “so instead/he snatches at garbled predictive jottings made in ghostly glow”: That’s the toil a poet has to undergo after all.
    Such an engaging piece with a matter of fact tone and a surprising beginning. I really liked it.
    -HA

  6. I used to keep a writer’s journal by my bed, and when awakened. I’d jot down what I hoped wee poetic nuggets & bones–but later it was found to be jabberwocky–pure nonsense. These days I sleep fitfully, and don’t remember most of my dreams. So nice to see you for this prompt.

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