Word & Question
Yes, yes, it's late again. You'd be late, too, if you had the prompts I drew for myself. (Or maybe not and I'm just making excuses.)
Remember that if you're doing this for the "I Love My Friends" Giveaway, you need to have your poem up (and linked) on 25 August. And since I know that's really funny coming from someone who was two days late and blatantly backdated the post so she'd only be one day late . . . I'll consider all poems that are submitted before the announcement video is filmed. =P
Hey, if someone wants to host this next time, please feel free to volunteer! =)
Word -- Sweat
Question -- Am I missing something?
Despite how much you pack, it is never enough;
something will always end up left behind;
the most obvious choices will all slip your mind;
too much means too little in a life full of stuff.
Just start with a number no higher than ten,
and take that many items; stick close to your list:
the paradox is that when more things shall be missed,
we don't sweat them so much; we feel wealthy again.
Begin with too much and you'll always want more;
Begin with a little and you have all you need;
The world in your knapsack--the world as a seed:
And now you are ready to step out the door.
I have no idea where this poem came from. My original idea was something seriously "Emo" that just kept going on and on and on in its moaning because, well, it was Emo . . . and because whenever I tried to sneak in the word "sweat," my internal editor kept changing it to "blood."
Then I tried to write a conversation between a husband and wife on the phone, one of whom is missing their baby's many firsts. I might have actually finished that if I still remembered what it's like to have a baby around the house.
My third try involved a narcoleptic narrator who has missed a bit of every day of the week. I gave that up for the most unlikely reason of all: it was turning into an epic. (Or I should say: a mock epic.)
And then there was this poem, which came out of nowhere, in the wee hours of the morning.
But now let's get to all your poems, which have been waiting so patiently for mine. Leave the links in the combox. I can't wait to read them (although I probably deserve to)!