Thursday, December 10, 2009

Staying Warm

As you can see, we’ve had our first snow in the mountains. Another one is sweeping across the country. I hope you’re safe and warm where ever you are. I'm in and staying warm.

I’ve been fighting with my writing. I guess all writers have been through that kind of week or two. It’s all part of the process, but it is frustrating, and you do realize after the struggle has gone on for a few days that the thoughts are correct, and instead of ego you need to use some common sense. It’s not about the poetry.

Poetry and I have a love hate relationship. I’ve fought it, loved it, hated it, even divorced it for a few days, but not to worry we’ve reconciled and don’t need therapy or anything.

It’s about the mystery I’ve been working on. It seems to think I don’t need a location I thought was major to the plot, and some characters have strolled in, demanding attention. So, that’s what I’ve been doing, and I know you understand because you’ve been through those kinds of dilemma with your own writing. So, when I’m not around for a few days, I’m working, and that’s good. I haven’t heard from very many of you for some time. Hope all is well with you and you are putting pen to paper. Send me a note if you get a chance. Of course comments on my poem and suggestions are always welcome.

The poem I’m sharing with you today was prompted by an assignment I gave the Blue Ridge Poets and Writers for the meeting that’s coming up this month. We were to take a line from a song or poem and use it as a prompt for a small bit of prose or a poem. So, here’s my effort.

Michael Makes a List

He moves closer to his drink.
Pulls a fresh napkin from the pile
and whispers,

Even now I can make a list
cover this napkin from front to back
of what the protected don’t know.

It’s not always the bad boys who skip school.
Sometimes the bruises are just too fresh.

If you run away at Christmas
you wont even get a shirt.

You can tell it’s Friday by the
smell of whisky in the kitchen
and the broken glass on the linoleum.

It’s better to be cold on a bus
than warm at home.

If you die tomorrow
most people would say
they knew it would happen.

© Robert W. Kimsey 2009


  1. A poem that grabs you. And the first few words is a line from a song? what song, Robert?
    I like the idea of this prompt. I'll use it to prompt me to get something done, maybe.

  2. Robert, I"m not following your blog. It was good to see you today!

    I've had that love, hate relationship with writing. I've stopped and started many times... been discouraged, thought it was stupid. You get the picture. But it continues to haunt me until I pick it back up again. I know you can relate. For certainly all writers go through this.

    It's taken me years to be able to admit that I am a a writer. It seemed beyond me...

    Loved my visit here today!