I wake up to words,
find them on my doorstep,
waiting for me to attach wings,
crowding around my feet --
so I stumble, while they demand
attention. They make me laugh
as I put on my socks.
I have to be careful with words.
Often very shy, scattering
when you reach for them too quickly.
They hide behind ears of lovely women --
snickering, along the handles of tea cups --
whispering sweet nothings. Just, when
I think I will never find them,
they become bold,
flow from my tongue
a rapid dance of meaning and mystery,
turn me into quite the talker.
I ask them for prose. But,
they are not tame words interested
in talking about life. No, poetry
is what they claim. Tell me, they
are to be breathed, tasted, rolled
through mud, made to dance inside
the belly -- where life begins,
until, set free, they become fat
feasting on our lusts and fears,
give us language, allow us to play
out the intelligence of our feelings.
I have never written anything.
My words write me.
10:23 PM
12-07-07
Alexandria, VA
Author notes
It will never be a machine for me, but I thought I should provide proper represetation for the little devils. The need to be respected in their own right and if this doesn't occur soon, we will protest outside your office and have silent sit ins in your office and no word will allow itself to be spoken. So there.
In a list
A contest entry
- The Poetry Machine- ends midnight USA EST by CarolDesjarlais.
525 points, ended December 8, 2007, 8 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 58 of 58
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Congratulations on silver--well deserved for a piece that is at once insightful and fun. Each stanza brings us deeper into the glorious conflict and soothing tension between poet and words...something we have all experienced at some point. I like especially the combination of mundance acts (putting on socks) and exotic language to surround and re-define those acts. Very nicely handled throughout.
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This was a lot of fun. I wanted to capture the sense of inspiration as well as the way everything becomes part of the poetry of being alive. Thanks for enjoying the whimsical and yet deeper underlying reverence I have for my relationship to poetry. May your words always preform well under your guidance.
Peace & Light
Tom B.
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" I have never written anything My Words Write me."
How true it is I love this very good jo -
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Thanks. May your words flow through your pen with greater ease than mine. They take me to task for proper usage, appreciateing just the right word for the right situation, all the standard things that any wordsmith would naturally do.
Love, Tom B.
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Well said-er-or, did you write them? Or-did they write you? Ha!
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We are but conversations surrounded by a story, unless we become a reflection of our being. The words all to often create who we are and then we are limited to plots already to well known by a world grown small.
Love, Tom B.
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Full of Eloquence
I admire the way you make it seem easy to express such grandiose ideas in such short meaningful phrases.In a part of this you have captured my frustration in writing,"I have to be careful with words.
Often very shy, scattering
when you reach for them too quickly."
Thankyou, Leah -
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Oh, yes they run from my thoughts and I was sure I was ready to spill great things upon the page, my pencil sharp but my mind barren of anything to write. I have used all sorts of prompts but sometimes all my fires of creativity create are ashes of ideas that lie dead upon the page. Worse I write line after line of nothing and have a page with a date and scribbled out language. I review people's poem seeking another spark. This poem wrote me. I read it at a open mic and am pleased to say the response was positive. One of my final tests. Often what sounds great at my desk shows all of its acne when read publically.
Thanks for finding such pleasure in this short piece. I am grateful for the support and joy you provide.
Love, Tom B.
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Wonderful, funny, touching, I can relate!!
except on those days when they've all gone to the beach for the day..lol.
I have just survived my first bout of writer's block, and I was miserable. This is truly inspiring to me, wonderful, Jin
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I sit quietly and wait. They slip into my mind. Sometimes the ones the write the first one make the others jealous
and I get three or four more. Sometimes the first one is so stupendous I am left alone for three or four more days while they revcover from the strain.
Glad you could relate.
Love Tom B.
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great write. I was surprised, first by the plain background - I thought "this is serious!" - and then by the playful tone, almost bemused, but very happy with the situation. It is difficult to talk about words with words, but what else can we use? Like thinking about mind with the mind. But you've done a wonderful job here, I love the second stanza, and the fourth from line 4 is a truly physical image that I felt in my stomach. This eulogy to words connects the body to the mind for me, the final lines a benediction.
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Very nice commentary. Yes, I let my sense of humor run free with this for laughter and joy expose both our folly and our love. I let the words address themselves and they danced for me in their delight.
Love, Tom B.
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No, never a machine, just an instinct...a rhythm set free, heard internally and shared in ways that speak universally. Blue
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So true. I write 'cause to not write is to give up a part of living. I allow the words to flow through me as an expression of the River the I feel flowing about me. The deeper I reach for water or sand the richer the language the comes to my hands. I learn often as much from what shows up on my pages as the readers who read me. Love,Tom B.
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Thought that great two last lines - I have never written anything. My words write me. When we want to write a peom, out muse takes over and the words flow as from themselves. When the poem is completed, we are in wonder as to where the words came from. Like how you explained this process in these lines. Liked the flow and the mssage shared in these lines. They certainly turn you into quite the talker alright! Nice silver too.
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Thanks. I did this with a tongue in cheek style to highlight how much it is a gift and yet a war.
Love, Tom B.
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Perfectly enchanting!
Gracefully enlightening!
Yes, I could feel the weight of your heart, light as a feather as it played, and as the words came to danced vividly upon the page... A true and ever relevant expression, that you have laid out here on the page, with effortless grace... I truly loved this poem!
~ James ~
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Thanks for enjoying this flight of fancy. It was fun for me to write. Words are our tools and they play with us, often, more than we with them.
Peace & Light
Tom B.
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Congratulation on the Silver
What a magnificent write, You did an outstanding job on this piece. I had to read it twice I really spoke to me. loved this stance;
"They hide behind ears of lovely women --
snickering, along the handles of tea cups --
whispering sweet nothings. Just, when
I think I will never find them,
they become bold,
flow from my tongue
a rapid dance of meaning and mystery,
turn me into quite the talker"
LISA
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Thanks so much for sharing the joy you found here. I know too well how much the language we use creates us.
Love, Tom B.
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Outstanding!!!!!!!!!!!
You have wrote what we all feel and for that my dear friend i am saying Bravo!
Tell me, they
are to be breathed, tasted, rolled
through mud, made to dance inside
the belly -- where life begins,
until, set free, they become fat
feasting on our lusts and fears,
give us language, allow us to play
out the intelligence of our feelings.
So true and Love this one because our words are our feelings.
Love
Teachers Pet
~Lisa~
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We are creatures of language. We define our reality and ourselves by the words we use. So glad you enjoyed the dance.
Love, Tom B.
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You have done a terrific job with this beautiful piece. Thanks for sharing this wonderful gift. Congratulations on the Silver.
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Thanks for sharing your joy in reading this piece.
Peace & Light
Tom B.
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there are times I've wondered if there were gremlins controling my words when i got writer's block
laughing at me when I simply wanted to let my words flow.
so yes I'm laughing at this my friend!
Keep penning on one stroke at a time!
Bill
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No gremlins, it is the words themselves
Their muses serve them in delicious group so we are deceived into thinking the cook is the meal.
Thanks for sharing your joy. It multiplies in the sharing.
Peace & Light
Tom B.
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Wonderful poem to enjoy!
That is wonderful...I wake up to words, find them on
my doorstep, waiting for me to attach wings. Loved
that imagery! that was delicious feast of a poem!
I have never written anything, my words write me!
BRAVO! BRAVO! excellent, excellent poem to enjoy!
ears2hearyou
Kathleen : )))))
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I hope you found the smiles lit lamps so they fluttered like moths around the light of your spirit.
Many thanks for sharing your joy for it multiplies mine and I hope this note increases yours. Love, Tom B.
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A great poem deserving of silver.
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Calling this great is going to expand the ego of my words till their fonts won't allow them to fit on the page.
I appreciate the generosity of the many phases of bunnies.
Love, Tom B.
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Wow, it's like a genesis of our musings waiting calmly on our fingertips, ready to explode onto paper. Then relentlessly overthrows our will to put the pin down. Kind of like a mute who suddenly can't stop talking. Very cool poem my friend.
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Glad you liked this. It showed up and was fun to write.
Peace & Light
Tom B.
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words are such tricky devils. but they inspire and once they start flowing they never seem to stop.
thanks for sharing.
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I think you caught the heart of this. It is only our job to help them find print.
Love, Tom B -
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and do i not catch all that is in between the lines of thee poet. words have a way of speaking and making sense. it is just our job to pen them out.
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Oh you dear poet you have captured and revealed the secret of everyone of us. I had to laugh when I saw myself in from of my screen while I read this most vivid write.
wow! I must agree I know sometimes they(words) take control of my mouth and even roll out of place..Hahahaha...you nailed this one to my heart....novy
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I rarely write about how I write, since I really don't know. This one sprung into place and took care of itself through my willing fingers. Glad you enjoyed it.
Love, Tom B
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What an icnredible write.... oh such truths made real and tricky and delightful... awesome entry, ty.
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I was watching "Posimo" think I spelled it right. It is an Italian film about a post man and Pablo Neruda. Wonderful film. It is in french or Italian with english subtitles. Rich. I had the first three lines before the movie started. The first two verses before the credits and opening scence were done. The rest wrote after the movie.
I don't as a rule write humorous pieces and often there are people who can't see my humor at all. This was written to twinkle the eye as much as to give truth to the soul. Erato and this are as close as I have ever come to explaining how or why I write. Once I discovered or really saw what poetry could do, everything was written and I am just the copyist.
Love, Tom B.
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beautifully composed... so honest...
a lovely write!
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leilani -- my letting words run like bandits and small children through the old victorian manse of my mind is honest. Only because they have me duct taped in a bathroom on the third floor and have taken over my pen. I know you are try to placate them so they will free me. Thank you.
Love, Tom B. -
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is it working?
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giggle, snicker, so that is what you do with prose
very well done
I like the first stanza best
Tamara
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They demanded their say, so what could I do but give into their demands. I have had too many critics tell me my thinking was too poetic for a good critical commentary. It is as if people want to pretend that life and thought are only coherent when the context of feelings is left out of the equation. That may simplify thinking, but it leaves the results a long way from the truth. My words know.
They delight in feelings and being deeply embroiled in the center of life. Thanks for all your kind thoughts.
Love, Tom B.
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your second stanza was just magic. the way you personified it was brilliant
this is the only way to write...the way you speak of it.
forced poetry is never considered poetry...just writing
you are magic tom
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ah, a choice compliment: to be seen as magic. I shall have to let my words spin 'round your heart and soul so you become a thrall in my life.
I loved the writing of this. It is rare that my humor gets truly set free in my poetry and this is one of those times. I delight in it. Glad you could enjoy it so much too.
Love, Tom B.
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This is beautiful and sweet..
If I were to choose favorite lines, I would have to highlight the entire poem. It is magical!
Always a joy to read your words, my friend
Lynda
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Your support and insights are always a gift.
Love, Tom B.
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Wonderful imagery, rhythm, focus...all wondrously explaining the inexplicable. Especially the final two lines. I've had that happen a couple of times to the extent that it was almost frightening.
I've always felt, with Milton, that we prepare, practice, then open and wait.
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Milton had it right. Often I try to forget everything I know so I can hear them chattering deep in the hollow called me.
This came quickly for the opening two verses, then I had to find the eraser and worry a bit that I hadn't listened properly. Fortunately they were patient with my clumsyness and provided me with the right words in the end.
There are moments when I thought I had sat down to write a certain poem and I know I had it all thought out. when I get done a poem I never met before lies before me. Quite a surprise when it happens. Thanks for enjoying this.
Love, Tom B.
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Gee I was in such a hurry to post mine I must have forgotten to click the submit button! As always your use of metaphor is stellar. I liked the way you embellished this with humor. I wish words chased me down like this. But still I have to laugh at myself for being stubborn and you for this charming write...
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Haste makes waste
Of course I do that more often just because I am a master of techno-klutz. This is really their advertisment and a sign of their rebellious independence or they would of left me some small credit for being smart enough to listen to them. But, no-o-o-o-o, they are so ego centric. Ever since they hear that the pen is mighter than the sword . . .
Love, Tom B.
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Do the little people that live in your head, hurt when they jump up and down with an idea? lol
I just loved this and can so relate. This happens to me so often. I can be doing something, like maybe trying to sleep and all these words come to me..and I just write.
I really loved this..Great job and good luck in the contest.
Soulful Woman
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I hate it when I am driving and all I can do is sing out of key or proclaim during a traffic jamb and listen to the jumble run rampant through my soul.
I have tried holding on to the first line and it rarely works. The little buggers are to impatient to hang around till I can find paper.
Love, Tom B.
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lol Dare I say you poke fun at your talent, I can almost imagine little words hammering on your temple, begging to be let in and written by your pen. This is wonderful Tom, the wordplay is superb and it made me smile to read it.
PS: New photo?? Please explain..the small one is awfully cute Love, C
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I thought you would enjoy my silliness. I don't attempt humor as a rule because i think I am too heavy handed. This just came to me and wouldn't let me rest. So again I am not to blame, I am only the messenger.
Love, Tom B.
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