Tag Archives: procrastination

#325: Idea for a Poem

Question-mark
I have an idea for a poem
that I haven’t yet written.
This is not that poem.
This is the poem about the poem
I would like to write.
I’d call it a preemptive poem
because it takes the place
of the poem I’d like to write
and the poem I’d like to write
remains unwritten.
Sometimes, a title follows
me around for years.
In the poem about the poem
I’d like to write, I refuse
to reveal the title, the title
of the poem I’d like to write,
the title that’s been following
me around. It’s too good and
revealing it too early might
jinx the poem I’d like to write
and then it might never
get written. The title, and thus the
subject, then, of the poem I’d
like to write becomes a secret.
The only good thing about this poem
about the poem I’d like to write
is that it contains a secret, the secret
of the title and the topic of the poem
that has not yet been written.
I sense that I could go on and on this way,
but sense as well that if I were to go
on and on this way, nothing would get
accomplished towards writing
the poem I’d like to write.
So I must come to a close by saying,
in conclusion, that I have a title
for a poem I’d like to write that’s
been following me around for years.
It’s a good title. I think it will be a
good poem. For now, though,
it will have to wait.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

#7: Six Statements and a Question

Write a poem in which each line is a single declarative sentence until the last line.  The last line should be a question.  That was the prompt today on www.napowrimo.net and I took up the challenge.  I thought, that since today was the seventh day of the poetry writing extravaganza, that my poem would contain six statements and a single question.  Ended up as an nine-line poem, though.  Didn’t like a long line dangling out there all by itself at the end.  It’s kind of a slight thing, a kind of catalogue of the last twelve hours.

Six Statements and a Question

We’re almost out of coffee, again.
The wind has been heavy.
It blew open the basement door.
Last night I found a slug down there, forlorn.
This morning I had pancakes with my son.
I sacrificed the last of the maple syrup and used powdered sugar.
Tell me, is there anything that needs doing
that could not wait, could not wait
another day at least?

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry