Notes About The Poem
Try as we might, as writers, we can never fully understand another's pain. All we can do is imagine.
Unfinished Nightmare
Unfinished Nightmare
Mouth agape
trash can lid arches limply
its hinged spine
like that of partial paragraphs
clinging
broken
yet refusing to let go
How gauze-like
the yellowed reflection
staring back from shattered temper-enhanced mirror
clinging also
defying decayed adhesive
refusing like me to accept
the dry erosion of once anchored purpose
I gaze
deep into the opened sanctuary
a place where discarded failure finds solace
glaring back at me
it continues its vigil
reminding the writer has produced but throwaway
Open-mouthed gluttony
grins patiently
crumpled pages like meatless bones
fantasy feast
mere table scraps
drop willingly to appease
if not satiate
Shrill words retch forth
pleading to be more than just letters in free fall
find air void of oxygen
fall leaden
but empty
condors and sparrows without wings
Unfinished manuscripts cry to live
to know
to hear
created epiphanies
read and embraced
The involuntary voice shouting back at my muse
rides triumphantly atop the wrinkled failure of drunken words
falls seductively past the gaping mouth
sliding between the sheets of other near misses
continuing the downward vortex
sending shivers of nourishment to
one’s abyss of failure
where no one
patiently waits
abides
understands
smiles
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