Sunday, April 08, 2012

speckled

buried in the yolk
my marrow soaks in blood.
in the staggering dusk,
I come out of the broken shell.
songs of the clouds
lead me to my mate;
a story of sorrows
untold yet known.

"how do I break free of that addiction to my destiny?
puppy looks on piteously, a treat for it"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It has been three weeks since I posted anything here. My muse seems to have totally disappeared. 

27 comments:

Barbara said...

poor puppy.

I know that dry well feeling. Been writing blather lately, but it's a good time for revisions.

Brian Miller said...

nice...i like the feeling in this...and great job yourself breaking out...

Jack said...

C D,

Read 4 poems now. Wiring is so true of life today. Obscured tells how we regret later for what we could have avoided. Hope you get over block soon and keep writing more.

Take care

Daydreamertoo said...

The break will do you good.
So glad you returned, this is lovely, well written to suit both prompts :)

christopher said...

Be gentle. And consider: if you had assignments and deadlines you would not think twice of just cobbling words together. From the other side of the reading line, one very often cannot tell how the words found the page. There is distance required, and an acceptance that the words belong to themselves, not to you.

Kim Nelson said...

layered, layered, layered, this.
the struggle is evident.
anxiety conveyed.

Kathe W. said...

be patient with yourself

jaerose said...

Hopefully those sorrows allow room for some joy too..breaking out of a shell is never easy..but it happens..Jae

flaubert said...

Another piece of excellent writing, Gautami.

Pamela

Mama Zen said...

Looks like that muse is back!

Wayne Pitchko said...

well done Gautami...thanks again

oldegg said...

The addiction to ones destiny is of course what we all have. We may say "Oh for the good times of old" but really we have that constant urge to move on and for you any loss of contact with your muse is heartbreaking. But you have proved she is still with you.

neil reid said...

Muse, no muse, matters less than just you being you and your good voice. Good to hear you again.

neil

PattiKen said...

Good job breaking the shell. That feeling of having bee deserted by the muse is well-known to most of us, I think. Usually, it turns out she was just napping.

daphnepurpus said...

Nicely done!

Jules said...

I am reminded of when I was 'shy' and broke out of my 'shell' - nicely wordled!

irene said...

a story of sorrows
untold yet known.

Like that line. Glad the muse has returned.

Chevrefeuille said...

This is stunning. Wonderful picture and a lovely poem. Well written.

brenda w said...

You are definitely breaking out. This is a strong write.

Kutamun said...

Intuition leading to the mate, beautiful words

Sue said...

I've had to do some pecking myself lately.
Seems like we all have to fight our way out of it now and again.

=)

Sreeja said...

hmmm...deep and nice....

Trellissimo said...

Sooner of later our shell cracks and we're up and running again...

Teresa said...

This is amazing imagery. Wonderful poem.

Claudia said...

nice..stories of breaking free are good stories...really nice..

ayala said...

Love this !

JJ Roa Rodriguez said...

Lovely!..

JJRod'z