Iliterate Poet

A dumping ground for my works in progress.

22 Mar 2011

Writer's Curse.

The paradox of a writer's curse
With spacious purse, empty
and a requirement to be reimbursed
for every verse; blood spattered sweat!
An urge for recognition wraps tentacles;
of boa's; tightly grasped onto neck.
Begging opinion: the positive sort at first
and when that doesn't show
Any kind will suffice.
Someone hating, enough to care
Writer's curse laid bare.
And even if it comes, the curse will appear.
Successfully filled that spacious purse
but now I sold that piece of me
and received that recognition
I wish I could go back
And reverse that awful decision.
The curse of networking to prove
Your life's work; your life.
To prove the words weren't
a complete and utter waste.
And then you realise.
What the hell am I doing.
Why am I perpetuating, multiple dream states
upon the biggest dream of all.
Posted by Iliteratepoet at 13:53


4 comments:

Wow. That captures the writer's feeling perfectly...I know every word, because I know I sure as hell battle with this. Look at the balance we must strike: sell, sell, sell your life's work - it's the only way to be recognized. Who's to say you'll be recognized? Network, network, network, or they'll never know your name. So many others do it--will they know you anyways? We hate ourselves when we think we can't be seen, regret our actions when we are...it's a Catch 22, and every day we just perpetuate the feeling.

Well struck, very well struck. Resonates with me powerfully.
 
Chris G.
23 March 2011 at 07:37
Chris, Glad that it resonated, I always try to be forthright and honest with my feelings - we aren't that different; us humans :)
 
Iliteratepoet
23 March 2011 at 08:34
yes...thats what it feels like...the urge for feedback, recognition....
and feeling horrible from inside that i need to network...
and feeling demoralized that nobody came...

but you must understand...out of all the people i read yest. on one stop...i clicked on follow for just a couple....those few who's poetry made sense to me...and wherein i did not read a long list of comments gushing with adulation ...even when just trying to understand what message the poet wanted to convey took me a few hours and still came across as going through the thesaurus...

you write so beautifully...i had to wake up and come back to see what you wrote...
 
Sonika Uppal
23 March 2011 at 20:29
Hello Sonny, Thanks for your kind words and the follow :) I wrote this one a while back, I have several hundred poems in my draft email folder and selectively upload them from time to time; on the odd days that my muse abandons me; which thankfully isn't much of the time ;)
 
Iliteratepoet
24 March 2011 at 14:00

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