Wednesday, October 30, 2013

The Real Stuff (OctPoWriMo Entry #30)

The Real Stuff

I don’t write the real stuff,
the dig down learn to deal stuff,
the fingers-deep insertion of hand into soul;
It’s too hard.  The ribs guard their treasure,
every hope and every measure of grace
that the human race can manage
together with the damage
of unkind words, the pick of
carrion birds, the worse works
of what, waking, we never say.

Poet's Note:  The prompt was to explore the dark...metaphorically.  I think my new favorite genre of poem is the "excuse" poem...I feel I've become something of an expert.  What can I say?


  1. Oh I love the imagery and alliteration in this Anna.

  2. Once again, Anne, brilliant. You are so talented at weaving your words into a unique flow! I loved "the worse works of what, waking, we never say." Freaking amazing!

    1. "AnnA" I meant :)

    2. Wow. I can't thank you enough for your kind kind words. You rock! :-D