It’s Like This…

tree painting cloud blowing wind landscape large by mattsart

tree painting cloud blowing wind landscape large by mattsart

It’s Like This
for a poet

The first line
is like a pearl pressed in your hand
by a total stranger.
Just take it.
Say, ” Thank you.”

The ones after that
you can almost own,
bend and hold
but still
they aren’t yours.

After some stanzas
the muse takes your hand
you promenade, trees bowing
on the boulevard;
your words trail behind.

The sun is going down
It’s all so smooth.
The muse whispers, “Stop”
and if you’re listening,
you sign your name.

Karima Hoisan
April 19, 2013

This entry was posted in Poems, Slices of Second Life, Uncategorized and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

10 Responses to It’s Like This…

  1. daleinnis says:

    Giving away your secrets, Karima! 🙂 So generous…


  2. Thanks Dale…but only a poet…might pick them up:)


  3. Steve Rogers says:

    It can be almost like hearing someone else’s work and just copying it word for word, knowing that nobody else can hear them and expose your plagiarism 🙂


  4. Henri says:

    I’m not, and I did!


  5. Hoyt Heron says:

    If this were true, would we not all be so lucky as to be as gifted as thee. I’m afraid there might be more to it than to have the muse casually handing off a handicraft like this one and others that you have created. I love that you can do this. Don’t ever stop. By the way…This poem is brilliant!


  6. Well….there is that first part about the stranger giving pearls away. I think you need to be in the right place at the right time:)) but you , who have supported everything I write, is also definitely a part of the process; the part where we believe we we can just let it flow smooth..walk under bending bows..let the words find their own place and sign our names:):) Thank you Hoyt!


  7. Dr. Lastronaut Faulk says:

    Yes, Ms. Hoisan. That is it exactly. And so it is with all creative pursuits that are expected to produce something “complete” at the end. Be it a painting or a novel, a song or a play, a sculpture or a child, we who create are all beggars at the start and gardeners at the end.


    • Oh my…:) What a pleasant amazing surprise to see your comment here Doctor! It has been way too long, since last we exchanged thoughts. Yours, as always, deep and perceptive, and with that little edge that is you *smiles warmly. I am very happy you agree with my assessment of the writing process, creative process, and your validation makes me surrender to it even more. By the way, I am back in New Toulouse, a new marvelous era blossoming under the guidance of our benevolent mayor Mr Henri Godenot. We as yet have no full- time Doctor, only a visiting one who reads head bumps, and we certainly have no Nurse…smiles so case you see her, give her my fondest regards,
      Ms. Hoisan


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