555 Days... The Continuation

Welcome to 555 Days as a Poet by The Crafty Scribe

Back in 2010, I challenged myself to write a poem or a short verse a day, and post it to a blog. 555 Days as a Poet by The Crafty Scribe is the continuation of the experiment.

I gave myself 18 months to recover from the original daily blog postings, and now, I am ready to start it all over again. Although as I was beginning in the middle of the year, I thought 6 months was too short a time after my last experience.

"If I could complete a year of poems, how about 18 months?" I thought. I worked out that would be 549 days. I could have rounded it up to 550 to included New Years Day 2014, but then I thought I'd go 5 better... to 555 days.

Why 555? According to many spiritual teachers, the number 555 is a sign of change and the flow of energy. I thought it related to the blog. I spent a year writing a poem every day, then rested for 18 months. Now the tide has turned. It's time to begin the flow of words in my life again.

I'm not a trained poet, just an enthusiastic scribe wanting to create something new each day. I don't truly know my stanza from my meter, but I hope to improve and get my poetic license someday! Expect the weird, the strange and the inner workings of the Crafty Scribe's mind. Let's ride the waves once more.

Please pass on the blog address to all your verse and lyrical loving friends. I hope you will join me, and read my daily scribbling.

Saturday, 21 December 2013

"Roll End Credits" (Entry 535)

Darkness enveloping behind my eyes, 
rolling in the credits - starring Me - produced by This Day - directed by The Fates. 

It's so late. 

Leaden arms try to heave the carcass up the stairs.
Am I wearing concrete boots?
I don’t remember.
Stare down to bare feet on bedroom carpet,
wearily peeling layers away.
Top layer cardigan worn to stave off the cold.

Try to unbutton a shirt with fingers
that feel as useful as balloon animals.
I wonder if, these are the same that 
deftly moved across the keyboard in rhythmic dance all day?

Eventually, I move to unzip jeans that appear
a size or two smaller than the ones
I jumped into this morning.

Bosom heaved from bra to breathe 
an expanding sigh of relief.
I lie on the bed and do
a horizontal twist 
to remove the last scrap of material from bum and hips.

Snuggle behind the quilt to sleep.
To sleep, with dreams. 
Ahhhhhhh,
What bliss is this!

Credits roll on to The End. 

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