h1

Run Dry

February 5, 2005

4/1985


There is a fear
that dwells within
and fills me
with a pain.


And when it comes
I feel alone
with no one
listening


And then I wonder
is it worth
the pain that comes
with writing?


For my fear is that
I will go unnoticed
and my poetry-pen
will run dry.




I’ve been feeling a little dry lately.  Too busy to spend much time on my poetry… and too lazy to make time for it.  Too many other demands, I guess. 


Thanks to those of you that have shared some of your stuff.  Keep it coming!


And I promise to try to put more stuff out here as well…

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5 comments

  1. This comment moved from the old blog site — original date lost.

    Unconnected

    Sitting in a coffee shop while the rain is splattering,
    Sipping our frothy caramel macchiato.
    You spellbound me at “Hello, how are you?”
    Your words are like a series of hypnotizing pendulums.
    In between the discussion of “my favorites, your favorites,”
    Of Aristotle and Kandinsky, of love and life,
    We giggled quietly.
    I hold your hand while you stare into my eyes.
    Ring Ring Ring Ring Ring
    Your cacophonous cell phone calls
    It encapsulates you into a titanium bubble,
    Exiling me like I’m Moses on my awkward flight of silence.
    It reels you in like a naïve, but hungry fish.
    You withdraw your hand like mine was tainted with poison,
    You glance away like I’m a stranger, a stalker for your attention.
    Who am I now?
    I am a match in a matchbook that has lain all winter under the woodpile:
    Damp sulfur on sodden cardboard.
    I am a small, muffled, and lost shadow, fading into the black sofa.
    I am worthless and superfluous,
    An uncharged battery,
    A keyboard that’s missing all of the keys.
    My attention has gone
    Unrequited.


  2. This comment moved from the old blog site — original date lost.

    Hi Daniel,
    I think your poem speaks for all of us who write poetry 🙂

    It’s like this: “If a poet is alone in the woods and recites prose but no one is there to hear it, is it still poetry?” I say “Yes!”

    I enjoy writing poetry too, and post mine on my blog. You’re welcome to visit and comment/critique– I appreciate good feedback. I’ll return here and read more too. Thank you.
    Carolyn


  3. This comment moved from the old blog site — original date lost.

    I don’t know. I wouldn’t call it poetry if there is no one there. I would say it’s a silent soliloquy. How can it be art if it doesn’t evoke an emotional response from a viewer.


  4. This comment moved from the old blog site — original date lost.

    i’m hesitant to critique because there i’m afraid to agitate people.


  5. No offense taken here, NC, if the critique is offered honestly and with good intention.



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