behave like planets,
circling around the poet giant.
Point the lens outward;
watch it flip like a mirror.
.
This reflection confirms it:
I am my own muse.
I burn like the sun
with defiance and shame,
and a continuing hope
that something I say
may inspire those planets
to grow bored and explore
the rest of the Milky Way
you know...for a change.
7 comments:
Oh, I love this. so. much. Especially as I get back into poetry writing (and reading yours), this fits me right now.
Seriously SARAH? Never try to change the orbit of the You verse. Nudity is the one easily conquerable fear and I for one would rather know it, be naked, while there is life to offer breezes into the soul that brought the image forth for me for you for us.
There is plenty of space for the explorers to go alookin at all of the galaxies of physical reality. But spare time to understand the available wisdom of what remains of humanity.
Liana, I'm just getting back to poetry too. So your words mean a lot. Thanks.
Mark, I'm coming to terms with just how difficult--in a galaxy of ways--self-expression still is for me.
But I love it. And I love you for receiving it the way you always do. You are a lodestar, Mark. Thank you.
If I were a planet, I'd wander.
The wandering planet...that's a good title.
Haha. Brooks was here. And now are you.
Some planet giving you trouble lately? Want it to get lost? Better call Saul!
(Sorry, I just finished watching Breaking Bad)
I'm sure some poetic planets think the same about us. We keep moving around the same orbits, fighting the same fights, seldom breaking free.
Aniket, I've watched 3 episodes of Breaking Bad and couldn't watch anymore. Not because it wasn't a great show but because I felt so much dread!
Nonetheless, Paul and I mean to get back to it...sometime.
As for the other stuff you said...yes. It does seem to be our destiny. Many journeys, precious few arrivals.
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