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Poem: The Quiet Room

 

The Quiet Room


Intrinsically obligated to serve,
Do you think the  artist just saw a plate of cheese on the table and was like....I can do that?
Head bowed in servitude but only in a prostrate submissive form.
It's not that I can see it, it's that you can't  unsee it.
Looking at it long enough the angles are not only angular but long enough.
I should go, away from this quiet place but it's comforting here.
Here, these walls hold the part of me that was so scared, the part of me that put my best foot forward in the frozen snow.
What a long path of misstroden woes and forgotten beguilements.

Comments

  1. KevinJanuary 20, 2024 at 3:19 AM

    Keep 'em coming.

    Another masterpiece about the creative process is 'For the Young Who Want to' by Marge Piercy https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/47399/for-the-young-who-want-to

    ReplyDelete

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