Poetry on demand,
Can anyone write it on command?
Can we summon
Any thought uncommon?
Can we make the common thought sing
With daily practicing?
Is this possible,
I'll do it anyway
I like electricity,
I'm thankful for it,
But, no electric blanket, please.
All day there are lights,
All day machines,
All day flickering pictures on screens,
All day voices on waves,
All day buzz and vibration.
When night falls
I want the heat running the background,
But even more I want the quiet, still, softness of heavy covers drawn close,
I know my presence haunts the book store.
From my pleasantly over-stimulated mind
Traverses the place in crisscross patterns,
Breathing in the scent of paper and ink,
Seduced by ideas in every direction,
Called to by cover after cover, title after title.
I am first in the discounted book section,
History, Gardening, Self-Help, Art,
Then pulled to Interior Design by seeming magnetism,
Only to be lured away by entertaining strategies hidden under Cooking and Weddings.
Then drawn in by Poetry,
And urged and encouraged and reeled into
Writing and Publishing,
Finally my dizzy body,
My aching brain
Wander to the door
For a fresh air cure.
My slightly guilty, joyous mind
Knows I steal away
With new thoughts
But my body senses, in exchange,
The book store has stolen
Some of me.
|Just some of our books. I love to read and I love the way books add color to a room!|