Emily's hope is ever-feathered
Sylvia's swastika burns the sky
William soars, a fly untethered,
Free from Poe's still-mournful sigh
These voices, they endure forever
Mingling in whispers in my ear
Personifying that endeavor
Dear to me but marred by fear
That fear, that fear, that bastard fear-
His weeds still choke my stem
That rascal fear, I feel him leer
And snatch away that glimmering gem
That gem, that gem, that little bud
That would have blossomed as my flower
He stamps with vigour into mud
Sucking up that precious power
in my deepest heart of hearts
in the house of my ambition
The puncture wounds begin to smart
As he feeds without contrition
Hope refuses to take wing
My blackest black fades in the sun
My caged spirit cannot sing
Resolve melts down and starts to run
corroding fingers in its path
You see - I'm no Sylvia Plath
Self-doubt kills creativity, she said,
and my creativity?
Well,
it's dead.
Dear Respected Cruxclaire
Dear Respected Cruxclaire,
Writing is an art.Expressions flow through the colours of the painted words expressing a series of pictures in the minds eye. BTW what is the need to become famous as a poet ?? Postpoems is a very nice platform to read and write freely on all topics under the sun and beyond. Please dont indulge in self-doubt or for the matter self-pity. Creating a piece- however small- is a feat of excellence and imparts a feeling of self-satisfaction "creation out of thin air" Dont try too hard.. Just write happily & you will soon find happiness in writing words & verse.
Good Luck to You from a far away well wisher
©bishu
Thank you for your kind
Thank you for your kind words!
It's less about the need to become a famous poet and more about my desire to measure up to these moguls. The paradox (which I intended to convey through subtle irony in the poem) appears in the fact that they inspire me more than anyone else, but they also make me doubt myself the most, because they craft their words so forcefully. They're the reason I wrote a poem at all, and they're also the reason why I wrote a poem about how hard it is for me to write poems.
Inspiration is drawn from poets of yesteryears
Inspiration is drawn from poets of yesteryears.Any poetry can be related to some other poetry written by some famous poet. The ideas can always be borrowed but the words must never ever be stolen. I shall be pasting a link to one earlier post on this site which have been inspired by a famous poet.
http://www.postpoems.org/authors/bishu/poem/973570
Welcome to PostPoems
©bishu