Slave

You may believe, Dear Reader,
that the words are mine to command
that I carefully contrive the message
form and structure succumbing
to my direction, syntax following suit

It has not been my intention to deceive
but, you see, I am mere slave to the whim
words hold the power, strangle my thoughts,
demand expression – they are haunting things,
rooted in urgency, and unwilling to bend

I would love to accept praise, pretend
a wisdom that is not mine, but words…
…well, they are born of some alien seed
growing within, nurtured I know not how,
and I am merely the vessel through which
their staccato voyage unravels

Stubborn as they are, silly things, really –
although I dare not say, for they can be vengeful
and vile, and I prefer the fluid passage
of expression than the painful, tearing,
slashing of words – monstrous as they can be
I  am rendered servant by their insistence

(Image my own)

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VJ

Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

40 thoughts on “Slave”

  3. I just read several of your works and they’re amazing, you’re amazing! Thank you for sharing, I’m learning a lot from folks like you because you’re writing is so crisp and real and it just pulls me in and that’s how I want to write thank you again thank you

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  5. Yes, the words have a mind of their own. When I first started writing many years ago, I wrote exclusively short stories. People would ask me where my ideas came from, and I told them I listened to the people in my head telling their stories, and wrote them down. That’s how it felt. I’ve been writing poetry for only a few years, and the same hold true for it—the words tell me what to write.

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  7. Your word confession certainly applies to poetry for me. I recently heard a poet interviewed who said the first two lines suddenly arrive and she has no idea where the poem will go. It’s strange to be a conduit but so reassuring when the magic works.

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      1. The summer days have been great. Meanwhile my cousin in Saskatchewan posts snow falling and the comment “I hate spring”.

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      2. Lol. I shouldn’t laugh. Poor Saskatchewan. A Ukrainian friend here originally thought she’d go to Saskatoon. Now she checks their weather daily and gives thanks she came to Ontario.

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  15. Good morning, VJ. Oh yes. This morning I woke up at 5 am, tried to get back to sleep, but the words demanded that I get up and post them. I did not contrive them; they were just there. I hope you can find some peace this weekend. I was saddened when I read your last post this morning…

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      1. It’s funny that you posted this today, VJ, because just yesterday I asked a friend, “Should I change to using simply my name for my domain?” I am conflicted about that, because writers and authors do, and honestly it’s simpler for people to type. But, it’s the difference between purpose and ego. And so often, as you say in your poem, I feel I am just the conduit to accomplish a higher purpose. I know you will understand. I like the title of your site. As I have come to know you through your writing, I see the multiple meanings of “One Woman’s Quest”.

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      2. Thanks. The questing has certainly evolved over the years and taken on new form. I purchased the domain name vjknutson.org to make it easy for people to find me and then kept the blog name

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