Monday, October 31, 2011

The Perils of a Typewriter


My hands
speak poetry
through keys beneath
my fingers,
a hesitant tapping
striving to record
thoughts without error.
Musings flow
in inked revelation
within electric margins
on the pristine white paper
collecting my words.
With each keystroke
I speak a prayer
that the verses will not
meet my editor,
a metal trash can sitting
at my feet.

©Susie Clevenger 2011
 Magpie Tales Prompt # 89

magpietales

15 comments:

Brian Miller said...

ha a few of them have to you know...i like to think of it as a sacrifice to the Muse...

Kathy Bischoping said...

The trash can as editor is a neat switch-up of your narrative.

Tigerbrite said...

Oh I like this. Nice take on the prompt. Will have to have a go at it.

Michelle My Bell said...

LoVeD it Susie!!! You had me at "My hands speak poetry through keys beneath my fingers"...
I very much enjoyed this!
Much Peace & Many Blessings~

Tumblewords: said...

I love that version of an editor! Well done!

Jo Bryant said...

there is so much about this that I love - really really speaks loudly of a place every writer knows

Nanka said...

That was a stealthy march and much fun too!! Do look over your shoulders too!! :D

Isabel Doyle said...

the typewriter image has inspired many groans of frustration ...
lovely piece

Christine said...

that darned editor on the floor, I use the shredder at work sometimes, now I try to keep all my writings, for one day my children to discover, this was a beautiful poem to read, lovely

Lucy Westenra said...

Sadly, the trash can waits for all of us from time to time. But remember, you NBG poems are the soil in which your best work grows.

Annie said...

I am very happy to see that THIS one did not meet your editor.

The Pen Thief said...

That is a beautiful poem!

Martin said...

I like this. The sound of screwed up paper hitting the trash can be soul destroying or inspiring.

Loly M. said...

Love it!

MEENA said...

Magnificent."Poetry beneath your fingers"