Image: Adapted from Canva Pro
My walls are all white Except for one speck of blood, Which has faded, slow, In the light of each season, Calling out to be painted.
Inertia
8 thoughts on “Inertia”
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Interesting poem and true. Without words there is no effective way to express thoughts, art, emotions, etc. And without these things, there is no way to change, evolve, or simply live.
Thank you for this insightful comment, Diana. I agree, everything does seem to evolve around words. Have a good weekend.
There’s a whole story in just those five lines. Great storytelling using poetry, Davy.
Thank you, Hugh. I’m glad you enjoyed the poem and appreciate your words.
Several stories and meanings to be concluded from this one. Knowing yet not knowing is a haunting feeling. Well written, Davy! 🙂
Thanks, Terveen. I was trying to capture that state we sometimes find ourselves as writers, staring at walls, searching for inspiration. As you say, knowing yet not knowing. I appreciate your kind words.
I don’t know how to read poems, but this one describes my writing process to a tee. In fact, I have splotches of blood in my manuscript that I’ve yet to ‘paint over’. You may have just reminded me to get going 😛
You have read the poem perfectly, Stuart. I think all writers have specks of blood scattered somewhere. Thanks for your thoughts.