Apr 5, 2013 Awake in Real Time: Coffee-induced Meditations and Journal Entries, Blogs and Bloggers

Today was a bad writing day.

So bad, that when I wrote a poem with the title “A Bad Writing Day,” the damned poem disappeared after I saved it.  I searched everywhere.  It’s hiding somewhere among the pixels.

So, in effect, I wrote my “poem a day” for April Poetry Writing Month today, — and it ran away from me from embarrassment.

Now what? 

A cop-out, that’s what.  I dug up an old one, and stuck it in my blog (the post just before this one in terms of chronology).

Hey, at least I know I wrote my poem today – even if it did disappear!

So, that should salve my conscience, right?

Actually, even if I had posted it, I’d have been so mad at myself for such a bad poem that I would not have been able to look myself in the eye for quite a while.

Some days are good poem days, and other days are bad poem days (sort of like “good and bad hair days.” ) 

Ultimately, it all depends on the weather, and how much sleep you had.

So, I’m off to get mine — sleep, that is.  (And perhaps tomorrow, perhaps on Sunday, I’ll  make up for today’s lack by writing two poems.

Well, goodnight, dear blog and bloggers!

Dreamers of Dreams

Tags: #Blogging, almost NaPoWriMo, bad writing days, good writing days, inspiration, poem a day, poetry-writing

Apr 5, 2013 Uncategorized

The Feather Drifted Down

©A poem by Vijaya Sundaram, June 3, 2011

Stillness.  The feather drifted down.

Silently, the feather drifted.

Drifting down, without a sound

It caught my eye, held it captive.

Drifting, it caused me to suspend

All thought, emotion, sensation,

All space was there for it to bend

Into white swirls, interactive

With the air.  My eyes tracking it,

The feather twirled, drifted and danced.

Grace, in space, while I, lacking it

Stayed put, all silent and in thrall.

This is what it all boils down to:

A single feather floating down

Life and death and toil come round to

A few moments spent in free fall.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~The End~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tags: #Life, #NaPoWriMo, #Original Poetry, #Space, dance, Feather, Free Fall, grace, Toil

Apr 5, 2013 Original Poetry

Rot
(Or: A Bad Writing Day)

©By Vijaya Sundaram

April 5, 2013

Inspiration does not come
It does not come
It does not.
It stays away, like a child
Unwilling to play.

Ideas elude me.
They elude me.
They elude … me,
Like those dreams I pursue
Into the vanishing dark.

My songs are stilled,
I have no songs.
No songs.
Silence fills my ears,
Loudly boxing my eardrums.

Words fail me now.
They fail me.
They fail … me.
And I am left with nothing,
Nothing but words that mean nothing at all.

If this continues tomorrow,
And the day after,
And the day after that,
I might as well die.
And then, resurrecting, write about that.

Or, failing that,
I will fly away from here.
Fly far, far away, hoping.
Never to return.
Or, maybe not.

Perhaps, I’ll moulder like leaves
On the silent forest floor,
Richly rotting and feeding
The soil, from which
Other things will grow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The End ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

P.S.  This is the poem I had written (and then lost) on April 5th, so I ended up writing a journal-entry-type post that day.  I have backdated this one’s “publish” date to April 5th (even if it is April 10th today)

Tags: #NaPoWriMo, Bad Writing Day, inspiration, lack of energy. Love, lack of ideas, lack of inspiration, Rot