'Some Days The Poetry Races...' Poem by Lillian Susan Thomas
'Some Days The Poetry Races...'
Some days the poetry
Races out of me
Like buckshot.
The day strikes,
Either through mischief or intent,
And the images swarm
Like a horde of wasps
Or an explosion hurling shrapnel
In all directions.
My words are ordinarily
A docile herd,
Easily driven at a slow dusty pace.
But not today! I am skittish from electric air
That blinks and booms in a lightning flash,
Stampeding all my thoughts
Out of reach.
Then for days I'll gather
All the strays back -
Those I can find.
Your poem breathes such verve into the 'docile herd' - this flock of fun phrases soars far beyond those mediocre murmurings. Thoroughly enjoyable, and oh so true! S ;)
This is a very good description of how the words we write come to us. Poetry is just that; a flash of lightning and if we don't write it down right away, it seems to leave forever. Thank you for sharing this with us. A 10+++++. Love & hugs, Barbara
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 10:08:08 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Fantastic imagery Lillian. I can almost see the words firing in all directions. I hope to experience more of those buckshot moments in my own writing!