During The Summer Poem Swap, I’ve enjoyed a little banter with fellow participant Buffy Silverman about our – um – lack of ability to, technically, meet the deadlines. :0! [Aside: I had the privilege of meeting Buffy a couple of years ago at a Highlights Founders workshop in poetry, along with a few other Poetry Friday-ers. What a treat!]
This deadline business all started with the very first swap poem; I’d noticed a comment Buffy left on another blog with a wee apology that her poem would arrive a little late. I emailed her that her confession gave me comfort, because I was already running behind too! Little did we know we’d be swapping with each other just a couple of rounds later.
And little did I know she could turn that week’s suggested prompt into this poetic series that literally had me laughing out loud. My office cat, May, was in my lap while I read it, and she looked alarmed, wondering what all the fuss was about.
I’m sure you will enjoy Buffy’s offering as much as I did!
Thirteen Ways of Looking at Procrastination
(an apology poem for Robyn, with thanks to Wallace Stevens)
Among the pile of unfinished tasks,
The one that tore my soul
Was the poetry-swap poem for Robyn.
I was of three minds,
Like a blank page
In which there are three imaginary poems.
The unwritten poem whirled in the background of my day.
It was a small part of the pantomime of being a writer.
Facebook and sudoku
Facebook and sudoku and a week up north
I do not know which to prefer,
The beauty of Robyn’s poem for me not yet written
Or the beauty of innuendoes,
The busy writer with assignments
That no one need know were completed seven days ago.
Would icicles fill the study window
Before the summer swap poems were written?
The shadow of procrastination
Grows when Robyn’s poem arrives.
The joy of her gift
Traced with guilt
A decipherable cause.
O idling writer of Augusta
Why do you imagine golden words?
Do you not see how the page
Still blank dances with rhythm
Of the writers before you?
I know about spiders and webs
And nimble, unpredictable rhymes;
But I know, too,
That frittering delay is involved
In what I know.
When the excuses flew out of sight
The words marked the end
Of the empty screen.
At the sight of stanzas
Crowing in black and white,
Even the mistress of procrastination
Would cry out sharply.
She rode to
Beaufort in a manila envelope.
Once, a fear pierced her,
In that she mistook
The lateness of her words
The neurons are firing.
The missive will soon be flying.
It was easier to write than to delay.
It was sunrise
And it was going to glow.
The words poured
From the writer’s pen.
--Buffy Silverman, July 2014
Image from http://www.julianjardine.co.uk/alisonread.html
©Buffy Silverman. All Rights Reserved.
Now, don’t procrastinate – get thee hence to this week’s Roundup over at Reflections on the Teche , hosted by the lovely and talented Margaret. (You can see Margaret’s Round One Summer Poem Swap gifts to me here .)
And… BLATENT COMMERCIAL WARNING: If you have a little correspondence to catch up on yourself this summer, I’ve just added a couple of beach-themed note card designs to the artsyletters stable. You can see them on my art blog here. Read More