Things that keep me up at night.
And while the coal-black cankered world
Longs to smudge out Hope's bright beacon gleam
Yet still strives men's anchored will
to live, to love, and to dream.
No, the problems of the world don't keep me up...No, the dishes in the sink don't keep me up...No, it's not the creepy creaky noises that keep me up...It's these DARN POEMS keep me up at night!
And the weird thing is, is that recently, my poems write themselves backwards. Last line first, and then up from there.
And the weird thing is, is that recently, my poems write themselves backwards. Last line first, and then up from there.
The last line of that poem has been floating around my head the last few weeks, but last night, as I was trying to settle in for sleep, it elbowed it's way into my brain, demanding to be finished. I have to tell you, it took every ounce of self-control not to jump out of bed and write it down just so I could get some peace...I just laid there, trying to work it all out. Let me tell YOU, that trying to compose something that makes sense when you are barely functional is a trial...it probably accounts for my whacked-out dreams....and for the fact that I feel like I didn't get any sleep. Darn verses...
Stay tuned for the next one, ending thus:
Into the black.
Don't ask...I don't know.
Comments
The last lines of a poem that often go through my mind (especially at night when I wish to sleep):
"I may yet live . . . To wish in vain to let go with the mind--
Of cares, at night, to sleep; but nothing tells me That I need learn to let go with the heart."
Of course, I did not write these lines. These are Robert Frost's lines.