Wednesday, January 6, 2010

for a connection

daunted by
the empty expanse
of a book
i'm supposed to fill
i realize
that i've become
a creature
of the computer
addicted to sending off
bits and pieces
of my small
knowing there's
a human heart
waiting somewhere
to receive them

before i wrote
only for me
thoughts committed
only to myself
words arranged
like so much
of my accumulated
treasured junk
in a way
pleasing only
to my lonely eyes
meaningful only
to my solitary heart

remembered images
feelings pushed down
dredged up
words playfully
put down on paper
a childish amusement

in love
with the shapes
crafted by
my own hand
pretty flamboyant
letters boldly
across the page
pledged to
staying the same
witnesses to
my having been

but now this
creature i've become
has thrown over
her own pretty hand
in favor of
thoughts and words
dancing merrily
across a screen
blurted out
for someone else
her own posterity
sacrificed gladly
for a connection...

* * * * * * *

This was inspired by a
lovely blank journal I
received as a birthday gift
several years ago. I confess
that it's as empty as the day
I received it.

1 comment:

  1. I offer my human heart for a connection. Your words on writing echo my own experience.


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