When A Poem Is Done Poem by David McLansky

When A Poem Is Done

Rating: 5.0


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.

Wednesday, August 6, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: love
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Elaine Sept 01 September 2014

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

2 0 Reply
Laurel Mcisaac 24 February 2015

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

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Sandra Feldman 06 August 2014

Wonderful poem, your description of the coming of a poem is great. 10/10

0 0 Reply
Sandra Feldman 06 August 2014

Wonderful poem, your description of the coming of a poem is great. 10/10

0 0 Reply
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