Advent Vent

Not far from the
cup that I favour,
lies a pencil that
sketches nothing
save images of
the end of
time.  I tried
the other day to
draw a daisy with it,
but no, the flower flamed like
the very purpose of hell.
And so, I set it down
for a time.  And in
its place I took
this pen that
would not
poem but
this.

 

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3 thoughts on “Advent Vent

  1. shoreacres says:

    This is great. The thought of pencils and pens that do only what they will, regardless of our wishes, is a wonderful way to portray a difficult, but familiar reality.

    As for the form of your poem: do you see what I see? Before I even read a word, the way you’ve laid the words out on the page communicated a very Advent-apropos image. If you intended it, you know. If you didn’t, I’ll let you look and then pop back and tell you what I see.

    • shoreacres says:

      Well, here I am. I wasn’t sure I really saw it, but I did — it’s the form of a pregnant woman! It’s stylized, of course, and in the style of many African carvings, but I still see her: hence, the connection to the mystery of Advent and Christmas!

      • agjorgenson says:

        That is great! I love it! Of course, I didn’t plan that, although I played around with breaks trying to find something that I liked in terms of shape that worked with the words. I’m very happy to know it came out as pregnant woman! Now, back to marking… thanks for the diversion, though!

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