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Thursday, 14 April 2011

On the Optimum Conditions for Artistic Success - and Eternal Life



How wonderful to have a cave,
a womb-like structure all your own.
(For most, the cave is made of bone.)

How wonderful to have your own
obedient dominatrix
to ply the whip and concrete mix,
to drive you in and seal the door.

There's no way out. How wonderful,
to feel it's in your hands alone,
the magnum opus that you've known
was always there, the magic trick
to reinstate you with mankind.

How marvellous to hollow out
a space devoid of all but wall,
a space where only spirits call.
It needs no more to furnish all
the dream will need to come about.

You hang your fate upon the dream
and ride it like a rocking horse.
It bucks and kicks and throws you off -
until the day the cave has gone.


7 comments:

Strummed Words said...

I love this. A room of one's own to create that masterpiece.

flaubert said...

Dave, you had me hooked with the opening stanza. I love how the words rolled off my tongue while reading this. Nice.

Pamela

120 Socks said...

Great Dave as always, but love the 4th stanza!

Lena said...

Another cracking one, Dave. The flow ebbed nicely!

Windsmoke. said...

Another enjoyable poem that flowed like a river. Comparing the womb to a cave simply fantastic, well done :-).

Dave King said...

Strummed Words
Everyone's dream.

Pamela
Many thanks for the nice words.

120 Socks
Thanks for the feedback. Very valuable.

Lena
A warm welcome to you. Many thanks for the generous comment.

Windsmoke
Much appreciate the comment. Thanks.

Andy Sewina said...

Hi Dave, love this one!