My fingers play with the stopper.
I recognize the texture, rough
threads of fear, smooth curves
of distraction, jagged excuses.
I built this thing myself.
I wiggle it a little, feel
the press of captured words
fighting to fly in full truth.
A few scouts escape, dance out
their tentative fragile patterns.
Sky does not fall. I keep breathing
My fingers play with the stopper.
I must admit I am not sure what this poem is about, what kind of stopper this is. Sorry, I am probably dense somehow.
ReplyDeleteMary, the stopper is the writer's block I tend to construct when I'm scared of what I may feel or say. I haven't been writing poetry because of a fear of writing and feeling my feelings. Yesterday I started a new cycle with the poem "afraid" - That was the beginning of wiggling the stopper. It's almost off now, still maybe looslely in place. But I couldn't have written "Body Blow" without taking my fingers off the stopper. I can feel more poems coming fast and hard and I'm glad.
ReplyDeleteVictoria, thank you for the explanation. Please write. Trust me, it helps. Do not fear your feelings. Express them.
ReplyDeleteWhew, just pull that stopper out, Victoria. I love that the sky didn't fall with the escape of those words (truths). Beautiful!
ReplyDeleteI understood the poem when I read it Victoria. The stopper you built yourself and are fearful about taking out. You do have a lot going on and especially the body blow news is coming at a difficult time. Hang in there and let the words flow little by little when it feels safe to you. Hugs
ReplyDeleteAnother powerful poem, unique and masterful poetic telling.
ReplyDelete