I can’t remember the last time I wrote a poem, most probably it was during creative writing at school. And I have to hold my hand up and admit that, rather like modern art, I don’t ‘get’ a lot of poetry unless it’s absolutely obvious what the message is.
So it was with some surprise that during my morning meditation the following came into my head fully formed. I liked it, I have no idea whether it counts as poetry (good or bad) but I wrote it down and thought I’d share it here.
If you do have an opinion, please be gentle 🙂
This is a poem of absolute courage
in the face of adversity as my war on words continues
while they slip and slide like eels out of the grasp of pen and thought.
Thumbing their noses and tipping arse about face
in an endless game of tag,
as I try valiantly to pin them down long enough
(edit): following a suggestion by the lovely Marie Laywine, I changed the third sentence from “with them constantly slipping like eels out of the grasp of pen and thought.” to the above.