I am very worried writing my poems.
\nIdeas don\u2019t come to me.
\nI am like a man gathering firewood.
\nI have collected everything around me,
\nthe big stumps,
\nthe branches,
\nthe neat firm logs,
\nburned everything in sight,
\nuntil now,
\nwhen I want a fire,
\nthere is nothing to collect.<\/p>\n
A sprig here,
\na scrap of paper there,
\noh yes,
\nthat was a poem I started
\nand never finished.
\nSome shavings from a wood carver
\nwho moved on,
\nbecause there was nothing to carve.
\nEven dried grass,
\nnothing,
\nall gone,
\na mere handful of doubtful combustibles
\nto write a poem with.<\/p>\n
My childhood was sacked,
\nmy love affairs gave up their diaries,
\nmy grudges and fights burned like gasoline,
\ntoo fast,
\nalmost exploding.
\nAnd the furniture,
\nthe outdoor lounge,
\nthe stump I sat on,
\nall used,
\nall burned,
\nall ground up into words,
\nuntil now there is nothing to use
\nin the fire of a poem.
\nOnly dirt and sky,
\nan occasional feather from a passing bird.<\/p>\n
So I\u2019m contemplating my clothes,
\nmy shirt,
\nmy trousers,
\nmy shoes,
\neven my nails
\nfor one last poem,
\nuntil the world can look down and say,
\nenough,
\ngo away.
\nYou\u2019ve stripped everything from your life,
\nand left nothing to grow,
\nto ferment,
\nto light a fire for me.
\nThe sky,
\nthe stars,
\nyou\u2019ve even burned the moon!
\nSo go learn to be quiet.
\nLearn to take a vacation.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I am very worried writing my poems. Ideas don\u2019t come to me. I am like a man gathering firewood. I have collected everything around me,…<\/p>\n