Poem: There Are Too Many of The Too Much's

There Are Too Many of The Too Much's

Far too many, and they keep coming, another and another,
the same one's over, repetitions of previous problems,
disasters drifting back after we thought they were away,
too many of the old problems, but also
so much that is new too, so many problems
that take so much energy, take so much away,
that make what remains seem less and even lesser,
make is seem we have lost too much,
too many things that were or could have been, too many things
that are all gone now.  Too much and too much and too much,
but always too much of what is not want or is not at all,
Too many absences, too much nothing, too many losses,
too much that cannot be restored.  Are there different days to come?
Can the days be different again?  Has it gone too long this way, already?
If it goes any other way, will it be a thing that I can notice,
that we can feel inside ourselves: will there be healing
or has too much been damaged.  How many of these things
can ever be made better again?  I do not know,
but it must change, I think.  It must.  Nothing stays as it is,
nothing stays always this way.  There is too much for too long,
too many and too much, again and again, but I have said that,
have fallen into the pattern, am only doing more of the same,
am too much like it, have said it so many times, some days
it is all my tongue can recall.  So many, it cannot last,
so much must run out.  It would not be enough
for these things to stop.  So much cannot be made better again,
it is not a possibility, but there must be so much more still to save. 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A Writer's Notebook, Day Two-Hundred-And-Fifty

Each of the three pieces I wrote today was a bit of a struggle to get going, if I am honest.  That happens, as I have mentioned, and my answer is generally to just wait it out, and the results vary.  A lot of the time, if I am really stuck, I might try to force something out, often it winds up being a bit meta, with me writing about being stuck without much in terms of inspiration, and it feels a bit like I am working scales in a way.  All the aesthetic decisions are there, they just don't always have a lot of purpose behind them, and that is fine in that context.  Essentially, I am just forcing myself to do the work, and getting it done, and I am showing myself that I can and will do it even if inspiration never strikes.  This can often take pressure off, and that lack of pressure opens up creative thinking and inspiration. Now, that is a fine thing for me to do, and I am likely to use that approach again many times in the future, but today I felt that I want...
Read more

Le Guin, Steering The Craft, Chapter Five: Adjectives and Adverbs (Exercise Five, Chastity)

A note of apology for my lateness with this.  I had expected to have time earlier in the day, but it was not to be, alas.  Anyhow, I am still a bit nervous about this exercise, though it is clearly of significant import to Le Guin, as she points out that it is the only exercise that she has given to all of her workshops.  That, of course, does not alter my feelings about it, excepting that I am aware of it as something valuable and worth doing, so the fact that it is a bit daunting might well be seen, through that light, as a promise of reward, perhaps.  The more difficult the task, the more one has to gain, at least by some logic... Exercise Five: Chastity Mr. Torino was in charge.  He had his way.  It was the way.  Desktops are clean.  Nothing but work.  No pictures: not your kids; not your girl or wife; not (as Allen recounted) your car.   None of that.  No plants.  No cartoons.  That is for home, this is work....
Read more

A Writer's Notebook, Two-Thousand-And-Fifty-Nine

I have been thinking about how I can discuss certain aspects of my poetry and the choices I make as a writer.  In particular, I tend to write without as much reliance on sensory details and descriptions, instead choosing more abstract depictions.  This is something that I know many writers would call an odd choice, as specificity seems inherently to demand the application of detail, but I tend to be a bit hesitant about relying on depictions that utilize the senses, as I find that approach somewhat problematic.  For one thing, sensory description is always going to be less than universal, and not only because of the reality that there are individuals who lack one or more sense.  In many ways, for me, the deeper problem is one related to language itself.  Our use of language creates our experiences in a very real way, though I can't necessarily offer a full explanation of what I mean by that right here, but using a word for an object bestows qualities on it....
Read more