Earthly spin, or: Greatest sin

A poet’s lament

What, I wonder, rests within? Underneath my skin?

True, I see a forehead; and, through my beard, a chin,
But I've never known my organs, nor blood vessels thin.
Perhaps I'm naught but poetry and have always been.

I strain to hear my rhythm through daily bustling din;
All thoughts of self-discovery swept up in earthly spin.
Oh -- dreadful that survival might be the greatest sin!

d’Verse

The above poem is in response to d’Verse’s ‘The Body & Poetry’ prompt.

The challenge:

Write a poem about the body parts (e.g. eyes, hands, feet) as a metaphor and/or story.

It doesn’t have to be about your body or family’s history (from the first person experience), if this makes it uncomfortable for you.

You can write about the body’s experience of someone else (from a third person narrative perspective).  You create the mood – serious, or sad or sexy, or funny or filled with nostalgia.

31 thoughts on “Earthly spin, or: Greatest sin”

  1. I would love to hear: my rhythm through daily bustling din. Just not enough reflection inside as we all swept up with what’s happening outside. I like the rhyming verses as it reads nicely! Thanks for joining in.

  2. I enjoyed this poem and the musings that accompanied it! Now I wonder if you slice a finger accidentally, do you lose a verse or two or does it spill onto the page as raw versions of poem or prose??

  3. ‘Perhaps I’m naught but poetry and have always been.’ – what a fantastic line! And if it’s true, that’s not a bad thing, right?

  4. Poetry with skin on…love that idea too! I’m puzzled why survival’s biggest sin…because it doesn’t let the poetry out?!

    1. I was thinking that surviving and the daily grind don’t allow the poetry the time or resources to come out fully… does that make sense, Lynn?


      David

  5. This is absolutely stellar writing! I especially resonate with; “I strain to hear my rhythm through daily bustling din.” 💝💝

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