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.
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.
Thanks for hosting, Grace ❤
Yours,
David
This is wonderful, David. The rhymes and rhythm work beautifully. And I love the idea that under your skin might only be poetry. The last line is troubling.
💝 Worms 💝
Well written David, the rhyme excellently sustained!
🙏 Rob 🙏
This rhythmic lament most certainly motivated you to explore within. 😉
Nice work, David.
💞 Michele 💞
Very interesting idea!
Yeah it came to me very randomly in response to the prompt! 😀
Thanks, Betul.
-David
Great job David. I enjoyed this very much.
🥰 Thanks, Lauren 🥰
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??
Muri, I was entertaining nearly identical thoughts 🙃
Shabbat shalom,
David
‘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?
😀
Poetry with skin on…love that idea too! I’m puzzled why survival’s biggest sin…because it doesn’t let the poetry out?!
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
Yes, now I understand it 🙂 Very true!
❤
This has such nice rhythm and pace … along with humor. I love it.
Thanks so much, Bev!
❤
David
Nice rhythm here and I like your existential spin.
I have a lot of angst 😉
❤
David
This is absolutely stellar writing! I especially resonate with; “I strain to hear my rhythm through daily bustling din.” 💝💝
You’re a sweet human, Sanaa. Thank you.
❤
David
The whirl of life and the sense of no time to be, not even to hear within. Enjoyed your take David.
Thanks so much, Paul. I’m glad you enjoyed this 🙂
❤
David
I sure did 🙂
Thank you so much for your kindness, Paul.
I deeply appreciate it.
Yours,
David
Very welcome 🙂