my marrow soaks in blood.
in the staggering dusk,
I come out of the broken shell.
songs of the clouds
lead me to my mate;
a story of sorrows
untold yet known.
"how do I break free of that addiction to my destiny?
puppy looks on piteously, a treat for it"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It has been three weeks since I posted anything here. My muse seems to have totally disappeared.
poor puppy.
ReplyDeleteI know that dry well feeling. Been writing blather lately, but it's a good time for revisions.
nice...i like the feeling in this...and great job yourself breaking out...
ReplyDeleteC D,
ReplyDeleteRead 4 poems now. Wiring is so true of life today. Obscured tells how we regret later for what we could have avoided. Hope you get over block soon and keep writing more.
Take care
The break will do you good.
ReplyDeleteSo glad you returned, this is lovely, well written to suit both prompts :)
Be gentle. And consider: if you had assignments and deadlines you would not think twice of just cobbling words together. From the other side of the reading line, one very often cannot tell how the words found the page. There is distance required, and an acceptance that the words belong to themselves, not to you.
ReplyDeletelayered, layered, layered, this.
ReplyDeletethe struggle is evident.
anxiety conveyed.
be patient with yourself
ReplyDeleteHopefully those sorrows allow room for some joy too..breaking out of a shell is never easy..but it happens..Jae
ReplyDeleteAnother piece of excellent writing, Gautami.
ReplyDeletePamela
Looks like that muse is back!
ReplyDeletewell done Gautami...thanks again
ReplyDeleteThe addiction to ones destiny is of course what we all have. We may say "Oh for the good times of old" but really we have that constant urge to move on and for you any loss of contact with your muse is heartbreaking. But you have proved she is still with you.
ReplyDeleteMuse, no muse, matters less than just you being you and your good voice. Good to hear you again.
ReplyDeleteneil
Good job breaking the shell. That feeling of having bee deserted by the muse is well-known to most of us, I think. Usually, it turns out she was just napping.
ReplyDeleteNicely done!
ReplyDeleteI am reminded of when I was 'shy' and broke out of my 'shell' - nicely wordled!
ReplyDeletea story of sorrows
ReplyDeleteuntold yet known.
Like that line. Glad the muse has returned.
This is stunning. Wonderful picture and a lovely poem. Well written.
ReplyDeleteYou are definitely breaking out. This is a strong write.
ReplyDeleteIntuition leading to the mate, beautiful words
ReplyDeleteI've had to do some pecking myself lately.
ReplyDeleteSeems like we all have to fight our way out of it now and again.
=)
hmmm...deep and nice....
ReplyDeleteSooner of later our shell cracks and we're up and running again...
ReplyDeleteThis is amazing imagery. Wonderful poem.
ReplyDeletenice..stories of breaking free are good stories...really nice..
ReplyDeleteLove this !
ReplyDeleteLovely!..
ReplyDeleteJJRod'z