This Was a Day

This was a day of no poetry

Subterranean randomness

Pondering things that presented out of the whole bloody universe

Into mine

Discovering the hidden hell of an island paradise

Where raped girls are lashed a hundred times

Draining joy from Eden

This was a day when I stared at a blank page

Blankly

This was a day of no poetry

Making nonsense through broken fingertips and deaf ears

This was a day of transitions and intersections

Going to an interview that wasn’t

Which led to poetic disclosure

So poetry hijacked the day

Weaving spoken word wonderment into

Hibiscus tea, steampotting aromatically

As the story of the leaves was written

In a worddance

This was a day of music

Music unleashed

This was a day of primal sound

Troubadour music

Where one singer with one instrument unveils his soul

Inside the shared breath of a small room of friends

New friends all

Because at a house concert the person beside you is a friend

Ipso facto

This was a day when poetry walked

This was a day for muses to laugh

This was a day for poetry to dance

This was a day

This was a day

This was a day like none other

 

David Trudel   ©  2013