The Quill

[CdnReader]

.

The Quill

In times long past the poet's craft began
in placing well-sharpened quill on parchment,
ink of black pulled swiftly along behind,
leaving a tracing of the writer's thoughts.

Shall he use comedy's witty words to
entice and delight? Will a spurned lover's
song be drawn into a minstrel's mourned cry?
Shall there be visions of summer's beauty?
Or will we shiver in winter's cold gaze,
our desires buried in the snowy depths?

He reaches into us and releases
drifts of consciousness into sweet daydreams.
How shall we resist the pull of the quill
when it leaves us contemplating its truth?

.
cdn/19dec07
.

[PrinceMyshkin]

Was a wee bit miffed to encounter you wearing borrowed clothing, although you wore it well, but on the whole I'd rather see you in your well-worn jeans and T-shirt with that sloganWomen need men like a fish needs a bicycle!

(I think I do mean something by that but at this hour of the morning, I can't be sure.)

Anyway, nimbly handled but I like your stuff better when it's spontaneous (or has the semblance thereof) than when it's tidy and oh so well-behaved.

[CdnReader]

Was a wee bit miffed to encounter you wearing borrowed clothing, although you wore it well, but on the whole I'd rather see you in your well-worn jeans and T-shirt with that sloganWomen need men like a fish needs a bicycle!

(I think I do mean something by that but at this hour of the morning, I can't be sure.)

Anyway, nimbly handled but I like your stuff better when it's spontaneous (or has the semblance thereof) than when it's tidy and oh so well-behaved.

I've gotta get new clothes SOMEtime, Jer, or I'll end up even more threadbare than I already am. :p

* * * * *



While quill-sharpening
has become a mostly forgotten preface
to the act of writing poetry,
the transcendence that accompanies
a more or less mindless routine
still offers a space
to fly.

Poems grow in the
most unexpected places....
between the cracks in the asphalt
on the path to the train station....
hidden in the back corner
of a winter-chilled garden....
drifting with the clouds
that held yesterday's snowflakes....
Sometimes they tiptoe
along the rim of a coffee cup,
dipping their toes in the cream jug,
then giggling and shivering with glee.
They were also recently seen
dancing with fleeting abandon
playing hide-and-seek
amongst forgotten titles
on a dusty shelf.

Reach out and grasp one.
Don't forget your quill.

.
cdn/19dec07
.

[Pendragon]

One was better...

[AuntShecky]

Liked both of these -- but the second one that begins
"Quill sharpening"-- that is really first rate.

[barbara0207]

I agree with Jerry here. I felt slightly uneasy when I read your first poem, I thought, well I've heard that before. But the second one is really brilliant. It's very original and has a certain lightness of tone that suits you much better, I think. You may want to get yourselves some new clothes, but you should make sure they fit. In your second poem you talk about the same theme, but in contrast to the first one it seems to have wings and soars up into the sky and the beholder watches in awe. Er, know what I mean?

[Xillus_Xavier]

To me, the first poem is brilliantly written.
I really liked this.

[quasimodo1]

To CdnReader: "the Quill" is excellent, inspired.

[CdnReader]

Wow! A whole variety of different opinions on these two. Thanks, everyone! I enjoyed writing them both. :)

[PrinceMyshkin]

I've gotta get new clothes SOMEtime, Jer, or I'll end up even more threadbare than I already am. :p

* * * * *



While quill-sharpening
has become a mostly forgotten preface
to the act of writing poetry,
the transcendence that accompanies
a more or less mindless routine
still offers a space
to fly.

Poems grow in the
most unexpected places....
between the cracks in the asphalt
on the path to the train station....
hidden in the back corner
of a winter-chilled garden....
drifting with the clouds
that held yesterday's snowflakes....
Sometimes they tiptoe
along the rim of a coffee cup,
dipping their toes in the cream jug,
then giggling and shivering with glee.
They were also recently seen
dancing with fleeting abandon
playing hide-and-seek
amongst forgotten titles
on a dusty shelf.

Reach out and grasp one.
Don't forget your quill.

.
cdn/19dec07
.


Oh! HOW could I have overlooked commenting on the sequel,to the quill which I like so much better than I did the original one. This one is freaking poetry whereas the first was merely Poetry!

But, look


playing hide-and-seek
amongst forgotten titles
on a dusty shelf.

is such a lovely, unforced, memorable way to conclude, whereas


Reach out and grasp one.
Don't forget your quill.

is merely tiresome old Ms Schoomarm re-entering the room & threatening once again to rap us over our knuckles! $3.98 to your favourite charity if you remove those lines, kill them dead, place them in a tomb of lead lest their radioactivity leak out.

Do I make myself clear? Or have I perhaps understated the case?

[ampoule]

Quill sharpening...fantabulous. :)

[CdnReader]

Thanks, Amp. :)

Jer.... I agree. Consider it done.

[PrinceMyshkin]

Jer.... I agree. Consider it done.


A Pole and a Czech fell overboard and were swallowed up by a couple of whales, a male and a female. The boat crew managed to land the whales and forced the female to regurgitate the Pole.

“Where’s my friend?” the Pole asked.

“Don’t worry,” a crew-member answered: "The Czech is in the male."

[CdnReader]

^^^ Shoulda used the Pole to keep the whale's mouth open, and they would nevera ended up in that pickle in the first place.