Talent is what they say
you have after the novel
is published and favorably
reviewed. Beforehand what
you have is a tedious
delusion, a hobby like knitting.
Work is what you have done
after the play is produced
and the audience claps.
Before that friends keep asking
when you are planning to go
out and get a job.
Genius is what they know you
had after the third volume
of remarkable poems. Earlier
they accuse you of withdrawing,
ask why you don't have a baby,
call you a bum.
The reason people want M.F.A.'s,
take workshops with fancy names
when all you can really
learn is a few techniques,
typing instructions and some-
body else's mannerisms
is that every artist lacks
a license to hang on the wall
like your optician, your vet
proving you may be a clumsy sadist
whose fillings fall into the stew
but you're certified a dentist.
The real writer is one
who really writes. Talent
is an invention like phlogiston
after the fact of fire.
Work is its own cure. You have to
like it better than being loved.
" Real writer is one who really writes" Genesis of the process of recognition conferred on any artist amazingly presented. Well deserved modern poem of the day.
One of the few so-called Modern Poems I liked. Solid points to make, well presented, and keeping it interesting till the very end. No gossamer gauze. Lovely.
Incredible write. I have seen this through my own career so many times. May the young see this and not give up on their dreams.
After the play is produced! ! ! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
Very practical and sound advice in the last line. Congrats on poem of day!
The real writer is one who really writes. Talent is an invention like phlogiston after the fact of fire......so touching and true. Beautiful poem.
Interesting exploration of the 'status' of a writer's 'career ego. She writes with at least the benefit of being that published poet, that published novelist, that lucky one: and I know, she's a good writer. But there are A LOT of them who nobody knows about at all. Touching poem on an often painful subject.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
proving you may be a clumsy whose fillings fall into the stew but you're certified a dentist. beautiful poem great 10++++