I have been thinking a lot about the idea of being or not being a poet. I haven’t come to any conclusions about myself yet but I was inspired recently to try this style for which I don’t know the name (see, my inner critic is telling me if I were a real poet I would know what it’s called and my inner writer just shoved a dirty sock in the inner critic’s mouth.) It’s all one poem but, if the formatting comes across correctly on your computer, can also be read vertically as two almost separate poems.
This is just word play for me (as in I know it still needs work) but I thought I would share it to make up for a serious lack of posting from me lately.
Sometimes words
run
away
to
hide
leave me
free
to
be
denied
Sometimes words
wander
wild
like lost birds
then
fall
smother me
silent
as an
unmarked grave
Sometimes words
tangle
unseen
knots
in my mind
crush me
with
the weight
of untold stories
Sometimes words
battle
the past
no prisoners
no heroes
inked soldiers
wait for me
whispering
my name
now
now
NOW
Sometimes words
return.
Susan Taylor Brown — all rights reserved
a beautiful poem with a particularly poignant ending. I love the whoosh and weight and whispers.
Thank you. It was fun.
NICE!
Ah thanks, Slatts.
Lovely!
Thank you.
Beautiful, Susan. It reminds me of the way Ellen Hopkins writes her books.
Yes, she’s the one that gave me the idea.
LOVE that dirty sock technique…
and I love the poem, too. It is quite interesting how the funny formatting added to my enjoyment…very interesting, actually.
I also have trouble calling myself a poet — have attained ‘sort of a poet’ or ‘a bit of a poet’ or will admit I ‘play with poetry’. So I hear you…but I LOVED this poem. Maybe it is a FD — but it is not a SFD!
BTW…I got a WHOLE scene in ‘Hope’ on the weekend…that is my DMD WIP, in case you have forgotten (pretty sure that would stick in your head, given our common connection with MD, tho!). Hope to post about how and why (I managed to get the scene) pretty soon…
Re: LOVE that dirty sock technique…
LOL on FD but not SFD. The label thing is tough, isn’t it? I think it’s hard for me bacause I don’t work a lot of the time in poetry. I don’t want to say I dabble, but …shoot, I don’t know.
Yeah on the whole scene in HOPE. I was hoping you were making progress on the book.
Wow. If I could do that kind of word play…Susan, it’s beautiful. Yay, inner writer.
Have you been over to Martha Alderson’s blog today (plotwhisperer.blogspot.com)? 🙂
Thanks, Becky. Of course I’ve already revised it a couple of times. LOL.
And yes, I caught Martha’s kindness. It will be fun to pass it forward.
How can you not call yourself a poet?! This is wonderful, so full of emotion and imagination.
I think this is a concrete poem, where the display on the page is important, as well as the words.
Anyone who writes poetry is a poet, in my opinion. And you have published at least one book of free verse. (I’ve only read HUGGING THE ROCK; I don’t know what form your other books are.)
Thank you. I guess it’s a tough label for me. I don’t know. I’ll have to ponder it some more.
WOW! You blow me away!
Thanks. That means a lot knowing that poetry isn’t usually your thing. 🙂
That is a beautiful and haunting poem! It makes me think of moonlight and tiny rippling streams. Awesome 🙂
Thanks so much.
Just call yourself a poet and get it over with already!!!! Sometimes words DO return….
LOL. If I could get over with it already I could simplify my life in so many ways. Alas – it’s probably not very likely to happen. 🙂