Tag Archives: literature


I used to read novels to experience vicarious adventures

Safely armchair bound

Giving myself an illusion of experience

Foreshadowing possibilities that are mostly unrealized

My shelves are lined with thrills and sagas

Of imaginary worlds and echoes of the past

Other people’s stories

Now, I am not bound between the covers

But carry my own pen

Open to the vicissitudes of my own adventures

Or quietly observing slices of the lives of others

I open pages when I open doors

I read wrinkles and laugh lines on those around me

Uncovering meanings from dropped hints

And the spaces between the words

Every day holds its own library for me

Volumes of content

On every subject ever found in rows of Dewey decimal precision

So I borrow my adventures from reality

Direct from the authors of the everyday



David Trudel  ©  2013



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Filed under Poetry

Reading Books

I used to read incessantly

I’d feel anxious if I didn’t have a book on the go

And the next one on the shelf

I read James Joyce to work out a few kinks

Pynchon extended my reach

Russian novels frustrated and compelled

Proust flummoxed

Asimov and Heinlein soared

And I lived for an eternity in 100 years of solitude

Reading the usual suspects

Genre by genre

Historical fiction

Post modern lit

Remaindered bargains from Alice Munro’s ex

I was libroholic

Until I started blogging

Writing my own words

Hunting for fruits of inspiration

Thinking from here

Not there


David Trudel  ©  2013




Filed under Poetry