Brewed Nature

A pound of Thoughts; A smidgen of Sarcasm; A quarter-cup of Concern; Two leaves of Bay; One Clove. Steep for days, constantly stirring with a branch of Oak.

Wednesday, April 13, 2005

On Being Zelda

by Lydia Daffenberg

I've become the Zelda I've never wanted to be
He's become, who would have guessed, "The Great Gatsby"

I start, you finish
Numbers too large to keep score
If I wasn't dead already, I'd probably die some more
Instead I just click off.
I know, you scoff . . .

But your self-doubt speaks:
"What do you think of this?
How does that read?
Does this represent me?"

"It's great, what can I say,
I'm Zelda and your Gatsby."
Go ahead, take it away.

2 Comments:

At 9:37 PM, Blogger M.T. Daffenberg said...

What do I say. . . ? Wow! You really reached deep for this one and it payed off. What a great poem! I love the rhythm, the rhyme, and probably some other rh- words that I can't think of. I hope the literary crowd catches this one, they'll love it.

 
At 8:04 AM, Blogger Mamagiggle said...

aw you guys!
First of all me likey, second of all, Is this poem like a dream, one in which you are all the players and parts? Third, my OCD is calling me to list Rh words
rhinocerous, rhizome, Rhea, rhinoplasty, rhizoctonia, rhabdom, rhubarb, Rhode Island, oh stop....

 

Post a Comment

<< Home

Counters
Free Website Counters