Hello! It’s a wonderful Wednesday back on the ground upon which I was born! No foreign blogging for me! This weeks post will be shorter, I have a dreadful amount of schoolwork to attend to on account of my prolonged absence from my place of residence. Rest assured, though, my leave has not been unpoetically fruitful! I made efforts to write at least a poem a night for my five (and then a sixth day due to canceled flights and sleeping in an airports frights) day stint in Canada. What a poetically charged Earth they reside! What thing, as well, is an airplane! How can either of these have become so mundane to those who so often frequent them? As Goethe says in his Maxims: “A rainbow is no longer looked upon after a quarter hour.”
Enough, I plan to release these “Poems from Canada” in the following weeks blogs. In fact, I would’ve done so today had I not gotten home and then promptly slept for fourteen hours, leaving me with little enough time for what I really must attend to (bureaucratic schoolmasters exercises).
This weeks poem is short, pleasant and obvious. I wrote it during a stint of writers block perhaps six months ago. Needless to say, it is a poem which has some fun words yet ultimately I think it sometimes lacks a certain feeling that I look for in my own works. Regardless, enjoy or eviscerate or both to your hearts content.
- Gneschen
Where’d my dear poems go? They were just here.
They’re going, gone, there leaves my single soul.
They’ve fled and found faraway lands unclear.
Where’re poems poor? Left, they leave my pull:
If leaving: leave lightly for, hard leaves wounds.
If wounding, wound hardly, thus I might die;
for dying, lies soft: my death obtunds.
My doom’s weakenéd; thus, you’ve doomed my cry,
for gone my poem’s sighs and gone their cries.
And likewise crying sighs have silent gone,
for sighing tears are torn from out my eyes:
these poet’s orbs have no poor song to fawn.
Where’d my lovely poems go? Lost, they long,
and longing lose themselves where they belong.
