...quiet, about a lot of things...

Thursday, November 15, 2007

Blindfolded for Totally Optional Prompts

How do I use "place" in my poetry? Usually, I dwell in my lack of place. The impermanence of place. Our dependency on place. I will always, I fear, struggle to find my place.

The Game


When he takes vision
out of the equation,

at first you think
it will be manageable.

Your mind remembers outlines
traces where the edges are.

The silk is almost refreshing,
with darkness cool and absolute.

There is no fear til you start
to spin,pushed by forces not

your own. From which direction
do they come? Is it the left

or right? About the third time
round, you are lost. In your hands,

from somewhere, comes a sharp piece
of steel. Perhaps the dial of

a compass? Perhaps not. So with a
nudge, you are sent off in a direction

-to seek a prize you can not see.
You hold your weapon against the air,

spreading each finger to help you
move only by touch. But there is

nothing to feel,just empty space
between your steps, unknown.

wlf 8:24


Guess what?..TOP is on WEDNESDAY..not Thursday....Ooops sorry..got a little lost..for a second there!
posted by wendy at 8:08 AM

6 Comments:

Wendy this is great......a vivid portrayal of what it feels like.

11/15/07, 9:39 AM  

I'd forgotten what it felt like to play that game. I think your description is more fun than actually playing it. Very cool girl!

11/15/07, 11:54 AM  

'just empty space between your steps, unknown' Adds another layer to this cool piece!

11/15/07, 12:45 PM  

very evocative description

11/16/07, 1:31 AM  

I had to read this a couple times but it was worth it! Each time I got more out of it. ~Linda

11/16/07, 3:20 PM  

A great description of having something vital taken from us.

11/17/07, 4:36 PM  

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