An Ode to a Lack

Ode to a Lack

I sat and looked with intent upon the screen so clear.
A thousand parts of ideas flowed, yet not one became real.
I tried when the sun had moved, but purpose remained the same
A failure to produce that small particle of whimsy and truth that sets my small world on fire.

Ideas circled me as I circled them
no thoughts were teammates; no words partners
in that communal affair of papyrus and cerebral entity.
Page and mind the same; both empty, their fluid consistency refused to flow and orchestrate even an ode to weeds.

I put off; procrastinated until this – a ballad or tomb, you should choose, commemorating my lack of productivity, my audience left with but this illusion of entertainment and insight. A monkey with cymbals would show as much.

I see the hands on the wall; they tell the lateness of the hour; the earliness of the morn.
I stop and sleep, trusting this to suffice as to effort and desire.

Love you all!


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  • Soma Mukherjee  On June 1, 2012 at 4:32 am

    loved the way you let your thoughts flow
    “Ideas circled me as I circled them
    no thoughts were teammates; no words partners”..i get you
    sometimes the ideas dont take shape and then there are times when words dont do justice to thoughts
    what a brillaint poetry an doe to the lack….


    • kindredspirit23  On June 1, 2012 at 10:54 pm

      You understand and follow me well, Soma.
      I wonder if we knew each other “before”?


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