I often write poems down in a notebook and never bother to type them up or share them; they just get forgotten. I have also found them scribbled on the backs of envelopes and post it notes, words I wrote sometimes years ago and paid no heed to.
This is one of those; one of Mark(opoetoo)’s poems about hunting reminded me of it http://opoetoo.wordpress.com/2010/01/25/death-of-a-poem/ If you’ve ever tried to write something that just wouldn’t come right, you’ll know what I mean.
It takes more than clever words
Strung out in an elegant pattern
Dazzling the eye and mind with wit
To make a real poem live
It takes more than a visionary mind
And a yearning heart full of pain
Stumbling over shreds of thought
To write verse that truly speaks.
Tonight I chase words
Like an untrained hunter
Chases deer that elude him with ease
Hurtling through thickets
Staggering through the undergrowth
To lie finally in the bracken
Gazing gasping at the blue sky
Knowing again I have failed
And the words will remain hungry.