General Poetry posted February 6, 2020


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A reflection on writer's block.

A Bedridden Poet

by Craig 68

A bedridden poet whispers to the encroaching darkness:
Stay your journey, and return to your peat bogs
And your sulfurous valleys,

Where windless vapors imitate mists and loiter in place,
A snare to those traveling the crooked paths of rocky shards,
And forbidding crags.

Surely such a visiting vision
Implies the scorn of Erasmus
And portends the demise of the "versifier."

Mocks his acclaim,
Trumpets in her ear
Doubts and fear.

Isn't that poisonous spirit after all
The messenger of life's end,
The harbinger of the fall,

The end of a line,
The end of a muse's infatuation,
The end of the end?

Wastelands have not starry nights
Or dewy dawns;
Only veils to be pierced!

Unlock those lowered shades
Covering your eyes
And rise.

Rise up from that feverish bed,
And breathe the breath of life
Into God's gift to you,

Dominion over a lush,
A verdant earth,
And beds intended only

For the birth of verse.











Write something, even if its bad.

"Desiderius Erasmus Roterodamus known as Erasmus or Erasmus of Rotterdam, was a Dutch philosopher" credited with the coining of the derisive word "versifier" to denote a bad poet. (Wikipedia)
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Artwork by Paul G. at FanArtReview.com

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© Copyright 2020. Craig 68 All rights reserved.
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