I don't know why it happens, but I become more "verbose" in my writing when I'm not listening to so much radio or television news (I don't always watch the screen when the news is on - it doesn't always add that much more to the discussion of events). This being National Poetry Month, I had thought to myself, "Self, why not put together a poem or two? You know, something to do with wind, sky, air, water, spring, life, etc.?" Well, it is now the last day in April, and I just realized that the implication of that was that I had not composed a single poem for this month. True, I did post one poem, but that was one I found online.
So what should I write about now that the end of the month is so near? Should I not worry, and try and throw something together really quickly? Should I be angst-ridden and worry over each line? How does this all relate to writer's block (and should that be the subject of my poem)?
Well, to answer the last (non-parenthetical) question first. I have found that I've been suffering from a massive case of writer's block. I've also realized that I have these when I am listening to a lot of NPR and watching a lot of BBC. I've just now turned off the Beeb and am listening to the flowing water of my housemate's large fish tank. The sun is setting, and the light is shafting in through the front-door window. I'm sitting, thinking about going out in an hour to Leopold Bros - getting in a last couple of visits before they up-and-go to Denver, CO.
So, here's my thrown-together, semi-thought-through poem:
The end of this month arrived so fast.
Through many weeks of work and celebration,
It sneaked up on me.
The end of this month looms ahead.
And I realize now, with a warm setting sun,
It will slip softly by.
The end of this month is so easy to see.
A campus devoid of stressed scholar-students,
Lies recovering in the sun.
The end of April, the cruelest month,
Will flow out with a soft, cool, breeze;
A sylph's caress upon the brow of Time.
Anticipate May.
May Day through and past Memorial Day.
Sunny, warm, and May.
Through many weeks of work and celebration,
It sneaked up on me.
The end of this month looms ahead.
And I realize now, with a warm setting sun,
It will slip softly by.
The end of this month is so easy to see.
A campus devoid of stressed scholar-students,
Lies recovering in the sun.
The end of April, the cruelest month,
Will flow out with a soft, cool, breeze;
A sylph's caress upon the brow of Time.
Anticipate May.
May Day through and past Memorial Day.
Sunny, warm, and May.
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