i have nothing to write...
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Ode to a Moth
a lot from
a Moth.
It always
looks for
light. It
thrives off
warmth and
brightness.
Truth.
Light
brings
out the
truth.
Moth
O Moth,
teach me more.
Friday, October 8, 2010
Nothing by David K. Bean
I have nothing to write...
I've never been mugged or lived
through a World War,
survived a fight with cancer
or taken morphine.
When I was young, my father didn't beat me
or send me out to beg in the street.
When I see a sunset, all I see is a sunset.
I’ve never looked at a butterfly
and had it remind me of the Milky Way,
or the fluttering pages of a child’s picture book.
The frost on the window is just frost,
not crystallized flocks of miniscule birds,
or a transitory reincarnation of Jack Frost
about to once more resolve himself to a dew
with the rising of the sun.
And when I close my eyes, I don’t see my dreams
reflected in the glassy pools of childhood.
I don’t hear the symphonies of life
playing their floating melodies of poetry.
I hear my pen scratching in harmony with the mouse in the cupboard.
I am the conductor—
cuing nothing
holding an endless fermata—
waiting...
I have nothing to write.