The birth of a poem


Today I’d like to challenge you to try your hand at a meta-poem of your own.

The birth of a poem

Sometimes an idea flits across
like a butterfly

in my hurry to capture it

I end up damaging its ethereal wings

sometimes in the middle of a chore

the ubiquitous bulb lights up

I drop everything

as I grab my phone

sometimes during my walk

I hear a sussuration, a whisper

I chant it feverishly, afraid to lose it

sometimes a tune is like an earworm

playing on and on

till I release it

on a clean sheet of paper

sometimes words gush out of my pen

as if a floodgate has been breached

refusing to be contained

sometimes I have to use

all my persuasive powers to plead

with the elusive expression

which wallows in wilderness

sometimes a thought

hits like a sledgehammer

leaving me dazed


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