An attitude of ending
is the engine of my craft.
All my days, my hours, my now
I’ve been jotting on scraps -
I am my epitaph’s rough draft.
Nothing of this copy can be erased,
crossed out, revised,
edited, or perfected,
not even the deepest regrets can be deleted,
so all my moment-notes and aphorisms,
poetic purls,
babbling blunders and fumblings,
in abundant awkwardness for sure,
are permanently scribed
on scraps of time
with a grave and goofy mind.
But what the heck,
for all my lack of certainty
and all my found finesse,
I address the instance with an odd urgency
and strive to write my uni-verse.
© 2014 All rights reserved
Interesting format, but the subject follows through making perfect sense. Read mine – Who Am I – Adeline
Your poem is very flowing, nice and smooth to read. Superb poem
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I get the sense that the poem instead ends with 'last caress'. It may be difficult to change a rhyme once you've chosen it, hence the arts of modern poetry. I like the middle part though. The poem is surprisingly light considering the heavy themes. In that way, it is difficult to understand the meaning. But some of the images make clear that you are groping towards some sort of truth of inbetweens, perhaps not a dark truth. Maybe just ordinary existence, or something intellectual.