Some Say Stop: She Says Not: Romantic Improv Blogging Poem

Some say stop
the poetic madness,
the unfolding of my life,
the exposure of myself.

“What’s the purpose?”
they ask.
“Are you trying for
attention?
Affirmation?
Appreciation?
Are you delivering
a message?”
“Don’t stop writing,”,
they say,
“but stop publishing.”

Yet, this was my goal:
To prove I could,
daily,
write.
Be inspired.
And,
in turn,
inspire.

I echo a fiddler
(Raise the roof!):
I should more easily
pull out my beard
*(if I had one)
and uncover my head
*(if that was my religion).
So has my writing
become
to me.

But she
begs,
Bitte!
for me
to continue
my poetry.
“Word goo”
she calls it,
as though it stuck
something together.

Why does she ask?
Is it for some
subliminal control
she maintains over me?
Is it for some
feeling
welling up deep inside
when she reads
and knows
she IS the muse?
(And she has been
for hundreds of these,
at least lately.)

Is it because
in my words
she becomes
immortal?

Does it matter?
Foes,
critics,
nay sayers,
dream slayers,
children,
X’s
cry to halt
creativity.

Friends,
supporters,
believers
beg
to differ.
Beg
for more.
Beg
me
to continue.
And so I do.

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s


%d bloggers like this: