Sharp Tender Shock

I am desperate to write. My story outline sits stagnant, waiting for me to pay attention, the characters are off to the side, and their are arms folded impatiently waiting for me to get my poop in a group.  I am still stifled by the 9 to 5 but maybe now I’m using that as an excuse because my lofty procrastination has turned into another painful bout of writer’s block.  It is entirely my fault for not writing.  I should be writing.  And trust me, I am trying.

The good news is, I am reading a lot and taking in live music shows to keep me breathing.  I did manage to get a lovely weekend away from the grind but I maintain I still require a retreat.  Absolute solitude, no technology, no distractions.  If I didn't require a steady paycheck I’d be gone in a heartbeat.

I just want to be artful. 

And, in the spirit of wanting to be artful on the last day of the long weekend and since I didn't post a single thing in the month of August, I set a goal for myself to write a poem today.  

This was the result:

 Sharp Tender Shock

You, in the brazen sun

a concept easily quoted

a sharp critical engagement

an event among philosophers.

You, fixed in a delicious swirl

throwing a tender muted gaze

speaking an intoxicating language

an unprecedented artful arrangement.

You, safe in the comforts of metaphor

a stimulating shock of necessary illusion

a threshold to the fall of cinnamon rain

a font of deeply decorous translations.

I invited you to the end of this poem

to reference the sharp tender shock I am

in from the tenacity of your turgid heart

where I am permitted to mention a thing

so vulgar as love.

**

Phew.  It's icky but it is writing, right?  Right.

You'd think that after watching Dwight Twilley's soundcheck yesterday, getting a hug from Garland Jeffreys and sitting in on a songwriter's workshop by Brian Potvin (Northern Pikes) and David Pirner (Soul Asylum) I'd have more to say.  But in all honesty, I'm still in awe of my day. of those artists.  I did soak up some mojo though.  Maybe this week I will set small attainable goals for writing.  Even a page an evening.  I think I can handle that.  Maybe I need to revisit the concept of writing prompts again.  Ugh.

In propinquity, 

Nic

True Objective Occurrences

True Objective Occurrences

my thoughtful process is tethered

an elegantly designed limited edition

a noteworthy measure of artistic intention

a significant percentage of provocative analog

I suppose it means something akin to compromise

or an over-determined allegiance to instructive joy

a sunset-flush shared only to propose civility

an obvious argument for quiet happenstance

I will try in good faith not to hold it against you

the banning of my bare bones and my daring breaths

be mad with desire

be riled by knowledge

be assimilated by art

it is a fated pursuit to become the Invisible Woman

it is a fated pursuit to become exceptionally vague

the prayers of misguided angels are rudimentary in design

the predictions of vestigial clowns pale in comparison to

enticed writers

artful painters

faithful architects

my observant progression is a generous portrait

instrumental in adding wistfulness to apprehension

a simple remedy for bewilderment and righteous despair

a humble antidote for soaring shelves of pitiful prose

I suppose it means something to rally against the bravado

to perpetuate the philosophy of heavy fists and sharp words

into something believable and deserves deft devotion

into something that leads you to the source of my words

laid neatly and organized carefully on sheets of soft paper

ubiquitous creations

voluptuous chastity

distinctive penmanship

all of it seems magical to those of us dependent on typical flaws

challenging our contemporary impression of fire and brimstone

and that is the dirty little secret of poets writing reams of poems

about true objective occurrences swathed in incendiary language

**

I had a burst of creative energy this afternoon while listening to the rain pour against our hot tin roof.  This is what transpired.

In propinquity,

Nic

Mid-Sentence

Mid-Sentence

loquacious

garrulous

vociferous

effusive turn of phrase

exhilarating intelligence

orated & pronounced

written & published

voluminous

extensive

bounteous

in mid-sentence

in mid-monologue

poised & uninterrupted

memorized & immortalized

at present

their own persuasion

a library of completeness

uttered in pure confidence

**

Bummed to be missing the Left Bank Poetry Reading tonight with my OHF gang but I managed to write a little something today in addition to finishing my first draft of 'Half Windsor Knot'. Feel good about that/both. I'll be combing through it on my artist date Saturday for additions, subtractions and embellishments.

Another blast of winter is looming but there are always words to keep me sane and entertained.

Happy Thursday!

In propinquity,

Nic