Some prosey poetry inspired by a prompt from Poets on the Page:
How narrow words become in those moments we attempt to insert line breaks, wondering “should it go there or should it go there or should it go there?” bumping into experience, nattering away at the substance of engagement the blitz or the blunder or the bludgeoning of what was - -
How narrow language is to define the something of something. We try, we scrabble, we root around at the breast of meaning wanting to make sense of what barely worked yesteryear to focus on being the promise, the solution, the better-than-ever-anyone --
How narrow time is, how stifling, how grating is the aftereffect of ill spent moments of not listening, not allowing, not steeping. We pay a price when we posture. We sacrifice what could be when we focus on things being as they always have been or the way we think they have to or need to or should still be.
Think of examples with me:
A television with five channels, at best.
A classroom without computers.
A worship service with only an organ, a man in the front up high above the rest, darkened with only stifled light and cherubic images.
A mountainside scalloped with pine trees.
A mountainside scalloped with deciduous trees.
A mountainside scalloped with snow. With Grasses. With Sheep. With Goats. With Wildflowers.
How narrow words become when we attempt to recreate, when we try to cloak the sheep in poppies or the valley oak in little bluestem.
I'm not writing poetry as my A to Z Challenge, but this was inspired by the A to Z Challenge. My regular A to Z series is... The Bold Writer from A to Z which has REALLY been a lot of fun as well as challenging (in a playful way!) for many bloggers and writers. Check it out!