[October 8]: In Two Minds About Writing

The Inner Critic The Writing Process
I have dreamt of you
In the many nights since
You ran away
Taking with you the moonshine
To replace it with weeks of rain
Note: Crap and b.s.
No, I’m just not feeling this
It was a cold day when she found
All the pieces of her life’s work
Ripped, littered across the ground
Beneath it the hatred lurked;
Despise was clearly evident
In the face of every reader
She knew this before the incident
Ever came to bleed her
Dry
Good God, it doesn’t always have to rhyme,
Come on, it’s like you’re not even trying
Mountains of thoughts were
Quiet to look at
But a sight to hear
If anything, their magnificence
Remained prominent
Replicated, but dominant
In all the pages they were placed in
Never eroded, despite the explosions they caused in the minds of beholders
… Really? Poorly fashioned, half-assed allegories?
You have got to be kidding me.
Where is the gut feeling, the wonder,
The intelligence?
Anything that would make your work
Contain a proton’s worth of relevance
He hated the stars with the passion of a
Sailor abandoned by the sea;
Stranded in his own deserted island of misery
Even the strength of distant balls of light
Could not communicate or transmit
Feelings he would not remit
Nor would they lead him to a hidden pathway out
Of the forbidden island
To a sense of peace
Nauseating to read.
I didn’t even sign up for this.
Torture, indeed,
This editing process.
I don’t even get paid for it.
Oh, really? Really, inner critic?
Is that how it pans out?
I do all the thinking and the linking of thoughts and ideas
Feelings and words,
And you go about shooting each and every one down?
Nothing even marginally constructive?
You’re not the slightest bit productive,
Sitting there yapping
Like you have an inkling of how this is done.
How about you hold your tongue still for once,
Write something useful with that red pen
Instead of crossing lines and
All the lines at that.
Even the red ones.
What, cat got your tongue?
Couldn’t write one, could you?
Yep, figures.
Now, if you’ll show yourself out,
I’ve got a narrative to write;
It’s about a closeted philosopher
Brilliant, but despised author
Whose inner critic probably gives him less hell
Than you’ve given me daily.
Yep.
Goodbye.
——
October Poetry: in the style of April Poetry (U.S. National Poetry Month),U.K’s poetry month is October.
Personal Mission: 31 days, 31 poems.
Challenge Accepted.
Link to others: http://sarahkasm.tumblr.com/october-poetry-2012