My Last Poem

My Last Poem by Darmok 12/9/01 The quiet spell of my voice echoes of the emptiness inside. The fruit therein picked or fallen now gone, shriveled and dried. I am dimenished and measured, for want I have treasured. Words I have not, cannot, imagine for pleasure. ps. just an exercise :)A reply to someone who said they were sort of stumped, tired of writing about the same old things, love and death, death and love....... Tired, geez 'your name'...we've all been there. Sometimes my favorite sandwhich seems like...the last one I'm ever going to eat! That is, tired of the same ole thing. When you get tired of your writing, read a good book, take a walk, go skiing, paint. Do something different, try stretching your limits a bit. Find someone who impresses you with their work and see what it is that they have done that you might not have tried? Are you working with metaphors, symbolism, imagery...free format? Whatever it is that is 'new' give it a try. I've been encouraged by many artist here with their different styles and depth, their use of imagination to convey the essence of word. It doesn't have to be about the 'same ol thing'. Love can be explored in a million ways. Taste, smell, touch, emotion, sensual, frightening, agape, unselfish, greedy, seedy, infatuated, sublime, conquest, earned, given, felt, seen. Add to this list some of your own expressions of love and build a book for yourself. Then one day when your are tired and beside yourself in thought, searching for a clue where to go...close your eyes and remember the last thing you saw that described love...and express that thought in verse. Perhaps its just an exercise to see more of your world, more of what 'stirs' your heart 'your name'. You are unlimited in what you feel and take in, there is a wealth of vision and soul inside your heart, your mind. As with love so is there the endless depth of death. Death need not be limited to the body, or the soul. Death of inspiration is what you are faced with, death of the words that seem so damned up inside of you, untouchable and lost. Written December 9th, 2001 © on Dec 09 2001 05:25 AM PST, Darmok    0 • 12