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mediocrity
by Ava Bluthere are times when the perfect line will form on my lips
and my fingers will rush to write it down
and my mind will wonder how the hell such a line entered
it doesn’t happen often
but it happens enough to make me wonder who else lives
inside my brain,
who else is using my body to write their words,
using my lips to tempt
it’s these moments when i truly believe in reincarnation,
when i imagine thousands of lives before me
i’ve taken quizzes attempting to discover who my inner voice is channeling;
i am never satisfied with the results
people compare your style to the styles of those past,
those dead and not quite completely forgotten
and you wonder how long your name will be uttered
once you’re buried
most people wish for their memory to remain,
for thoughts of them to occupy minds for years to come;
i’ve never longed for this
perhaps as a teen the fantasy of being famous,
being a poetic icon lived
and i watered it daily for years to see if it could grow;
it didn’t
like all things, it died
and i was no more shocked by its death than i have been
of my innocence
we either renounce such fantasies
or we succumb to the desire
and end up losing all
every day i find a way to smile,
to be satisfied with not being perfect;
each day i find a way to accept
and when the perfect line comes
i do not allow it to stay
for long.
04/13/2009 Posted on 04/13/2009
Copyright © 2024 Ava Blu
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 04/13/09 at 10:08 PM I think a lot of us have these thoughts running through our minds. You do a really wonderful, skillfull job of bringing us through the process of how you yourself think about these things. I think, in the end, it comes down to passion, to truly loving the work and any opportunity to write something that will sum up the universe, the heart and the soul all at the same time. Who's to say if this is that poem for you, but you still describe the process and mindset flawlessly. I really enjoyed this. |
| Posted by Laura Doom on 04/13/09 at 11:22 PM There are no perfect lines, only perfect moments in which giver and receiver coexist. You've applied a distinctly human touch here :>) |
| Posted by Olivia Weinkein on 04/14/09 at 02:21 AM amazing. |
| Posted by Ken Harnisch on 04/14/09 at 12:34 PM Perhaps the genius of the insightful flash comes not from a past life, Ava, but from the brilliance of your current one. I do not ask where the lightning comes from. I just hope i have a pen in my hand and an envelope to scrawl on when it comes...rare as it is..:0 |
| Posted by Jo Halliday on 05/04/09 at 04:22 AM "to be satisfied with not being perfect" yeah, but not content, right? satisfied is fine.
The urge for just blurting out sapped away any desire of being a legend in my case: but that's the person who writes. Because with the poems you give, I would like the name, the memory to live on: since that's how the poems, all that they touched upon live. I am less concerned about you than your poems :) |
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