I would not paint--a picture--
I'd rather be the One
Its bright impossibility
Its bright impossibility
To dwell--delicious--on--
And wonder how the fingers feel
Whose rare--celestial--stir--
Evokes so sweet a Torment--
Such sumptuous--Despair--
.
I would not talk, like Cornets--
I'd rather be the One
Raised softly to the Ceilings--
And out, and easy on--
Through Villages of Ether--
Myself endued Balloon
By but a lip of Metal--
The pier to my Pontoon--
.
Nor would I be a Poet--
Its finer--own the Ear--
Enamored--impotent--content--
The License to revere,
A privilege so awful
What would the Dower be,
Had I the Art to stun myself
With Bolts of Melody!
.
.
It's been one of those weeks where I'd rather own the ear, rather be raised softly to the ceilings, than try and stun myself with bolts of melody. Writing is indeed an awful privilege!
5 comments:
What a cool picture!
Thanks for the poetry and mental exercise of discerning it's meaning.
At the risk of sounding as clueless as I am...
the gist is that it's better, or maybe more enjoyable, to be the one enjoying the art, than to be the artist? Am I far off?
I do have far more fun reading than I do writing, except for on rare occasions when I've been plodding along and sudden creative adrenaline hits.
Right on, Janet! :)
You have to wonder if the "impotent" non-writers out there have it better ... they have the ability to be content without writing. But writers, even though there are those exhilarating moments when we stun ourselves, writers must write. No options. We must write.
Ah how I love Emily. :)
Yes, me must. But the thing is, and maybe this is what Emily was thinking too, that just BEING writers pollutes (harsh word) our reading experience to some degree. I'm utterly incapable of diving 100% into a book for pure enjoyment. Always, some part of me is busy trying to figure out how to do what that author does...or part of my mind is on my story...or I'm just jealous...
Except for when I'm reading the Bible.
Anyway, I wouldn't change it. I'm thrilled with this writer blessing/curse. But sometimes you wish you could slip out of it for an hour and just be the art-appreciator rather than the artist!
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