David McLansky

Freshman - 854 Points (5/24/1944 / New York City)

When A Poem Is Done - Poem by David McLansky

When a poem is done
My soul is purged,
The torment released,
In nouns and verbs.

I sift the prison of my soul
And the words run out
My bitter toil.

For a while
There is some relief
My soul is cleansed,
My thoughts deceased;

But who would have thought
Would have had the impression
That in my tiny skull
Marched such a precession?

Of opinions inked
Of distinction made
Of memories linked,
A vast parade.

A ceaseless flow
Of subtle notes
Where do they go?
Once they're unyoked.

Out into the wide world
Of Padip and Elaine
Strangers I'd love to meet
On a continental train.


Comments about When A Poem Is Done by David McLansky

  • Rookie - 487 Points Elaine Sept (9/1/2014 5:03:00 PM)

    Oh what a grand parade that would be, to have your poems on their own float... and you the parade marshal.

    I believe I would be in awe of you, and your every word, should I meet you in person.

    What a wonderful poem David!
    xo (Report) Reply

    Rookie - 25 Points Laurel Mcisaac (2/24/2015 12:42:00 PM)

    I emphatically agree Lainey. I finally found a way to you and David and Myke. I have missed the days sorely of our riffs and our love affair with poetry. Nothing since has felt as right or as therapeutic. Love you to the moon~Always~Laurel

    1 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Gold Star - 14,954 Points Sandra Feldman (8/6/2014 6:50:00 PM)

    Wonderful poem, your description of the coming of a poem is great.
    10/10 (Report) Reply

  • Gold Star - 14,954 Points Sandra Feldman (8/6/2014 6:50:00 PM)

    Wonderful poem, your description of the coming of a poem is great.
    10/10 (Report) Reply

Read all 4 comments »



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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, August 6, 2014



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