Dejá Lu

By Ewan

Mon, 22 Sep 2008
  • 1241 reads
4 comments
 

It's fate, destiny, doom:
writing the same poem
over and over again.
Your own tropes
regurgitated,
others' metaphors
chewed to pablum
and smeared on
the paper in
imitation of art.

It's fame, acceptance, loot:
striving for some status
higher and better than this.
Your poor words
unjustified,
beyond the margin,
blued by pencil
and thrown on
the slushpile in
merited contempt.

Certificate U
Miscellaneous

Comments

Submitted by chuck on
'I can't go on. I'll go on.' Samuel Barclay Beckett (13 April 1906 – 22 December 1989)

Submitted by sunshine on
Is anything really original? Aaahh the philosphers' never ending debate. I so enjoyed this in spite of doubts about chewing pablum and not liking 'slushpile'. Why is crticism of others' work so much easier than insight into ones own? Margot

Submitted by littleditty on
another poem to add to the one big poem - oh what did Mr Elliot say? something like that - i liked the blue pencil line - editor's colours, blue - ive an old poem, may be here, called Blue pencil, which like this one reminds me to take a break and soak up more of the colours on the colour wheel -is it Autumn where you are? Missed it again, its the first day of Spring where i am, no more Canarian Dorada, but a Brasilian cheers to you :o)

 

Submitted by Ewan on
MMMMMM! Caiporenho (?) who cares how you spell it!

Author Page at the 'Zon