Writing many words - waving, making, graphing;
I proclaimed my name – extensive name;
I felt so wise and certainly special,
and expected for many praises.
And I received, back to me…
…just words,
Exactly what I offered!
And nothing else…
The worst happened,
when to my house I returned,
just to find my wife in my bed,
sleeping with my Book embraced.
I was unable to blame – or accuse –
for that book had my name – after all –
I should feel pride – envy even –
but no. Nothing.
That was when I understood.
My best creation:
Nothing.
So, nothing I became.
Nothing for my wife’s embrace.
Nothing for the public praise.
Nothing that allowed me to fragment
Small and unnumbered, dismissed…
Everything I could finally be.
Author notes
Written January 8th, 2006
In a list
A contest entry
- Allwrite Magazine Poetry Contest- (20 and over) Prewrites Accepted by Runawaytrain.
300 points, ended January 30, 2006, 13 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
-
The emptiness of writing. I like it. Thanks for entering.
-
ahsant
The title attracted my attention: “Be nothing”
As I know you are single so this poem is surely an imaginary one!You put feeling in part part of your poem and I do like it because it makes your poetry alive.
Thanks for sharing this with us
~Massy~
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