Like a cat cat-tapping,
the poet fills in
the lines between
beginning and end,
her computer's hum
breaking keys' rhythm
as the mouse transmits
its winking warning
of energy critically low.
She scrolls the screen,
remembering what it was
like, scratching a nib
against yellowed onion
skin, bleeding from carbons
her editor's cold code,
making every syllable
count. On this page pulled
into a conceptual cloud,
white space consumes
and saves no less. Delete
holds no mark of meaning,
though, leaves no nub
fixed in the worn-down
eraser: trace encounter
of red lead-free pencil
with bitten biting edge.
© 2012 Maureen E. Doallas
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This month, the theme at TweetSpeakPoetry and Every Day Poems is "The Poet". Join us. You can even have a playlist for accompaniment.
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9 comments:
Exquisite, exquisitely playful, Maureen. Wonderful alliteration...xxxj
A perfect poem about writing, where words are almost artifacts, objectified on one hand as the tools, then miraculously employed in the actual job of work, simultaneously. Not easy.I especially like the final image, biting, bitten.
Such a fun weave of words and yeah delete is rarely seen for one never knows what could come as they write away.
from pencil to computer...delete, scroll no marks left...both concepts of the wordsmith felt in your lines...bkm
dang that red editing pencil...it bites me often...smiles... a great reflection on writing maureen...
This takes me back a ways.
oh, yes, i could feel this... wonderful!
Nice expression of the poetic process, like floating clouds of meaning.
In a vapor of words
The electrostatic charge
Molds sound from syllables
(btw please remove the CAPTCHA, it's difficult to enter a comment)
I like "cat tapping"..8 nersens
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