Poetry

Thursdays with Ernie

One must write
when it’s time
to write
despite
the dark angels
of indifference

hovering

Mother said
nothing
would come
of it
Another claimed
it could,
that I would
rule the world
so I shuffle along
the crowded way
between the two
avoiding the gaze
of the muse
lest I be thrust
into greatness
where villainous
critics wait

salivating
to eviscerate
every phrase

hook
line
and
sinker
and

here comes
Hemingway
again
eager to drink
my wine
then slap
my back
for encouragement

uninvited

I wish he would
go away – I can
scarcely pay
for my own vices

Categories: Poetry

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9 replies »

  1. “the dark angels/ of indifference” – I love that! Also that you go from them to your mother. Sheesh, aren’t mothers usually … kids’ best cheerleaders? Or maybe she is/was very practical . Still, take the greatness; if they appear, you can fend off those critics with swords or dragonfire or something. You’ve the ingenuity for that, much as Hemingway might rather a drinking buddy : )

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Another fantastic piece.
    The part beginning with Hemingway to the end is just very clever, imaginative and perfectly worded.

    Also liked the part about treading the ground between greatness and obscurity…reminds me of some early days naivety in terms of being a paid writer.

    Liked by 1 person

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