I hide behind these
Merely clever conceits
This heart on my sleeve
Is only a picture of mine.
Where is there room for life
If I’m writing all the time?
My words won’t have action
Until I move. Until then,
My poems remain my mask
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erbiage 
“Where is there room for life
If I’m writing all the time?”
I ponder this, myself. Often.
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SMiLes usuAlly NoW
Dance comes Before
Song and Dark
Comes Before
LiGHT NoW
But tHeRE
iS alWaYs
Room too
For SonG oF LiGHT
Then DancE MoRENoW..:)
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Yes. It is easy, tempting to hide behind the mask of poetry. As De said, I question myself, too. Which is why we sometimes need to take breaks. And breaks will nurture poetry.
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Funny how we call them Breaks. It’s only broken if we dont take them. Thank you for seeing me.
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My fav is also Where is there room for life
If I’m writing all the time? However, if one is somewhat avoidant, it compensates.
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Hey Nan thanks for reading, and commenting. What do you mean by avoidant, it compensates?
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Avoidant as I used it is a personality trait of tending to be less involved and active with other people than the average. My tendency has increased with age, but I feel comfortable interacting with the blog world,
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Interesting piece. Thought provoking. I like it. 🙂 Thanks for sharing.
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care to share any of those thoughts?
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Poems are our masks. We are so much more.
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Poets like painters only famous after they are gone… too bad…. Oh,well!! We still write anyway!!
Dwight
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Yes – this is a concern of mine as well… poems are our masks
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The fear is, if I put down these masks, will there be anything left?
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Interesting ☺️ Poems can be masks and so much more if we want them to!❤️
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I am sure many poets ponder this, but one needs to find balance then you can write about life (from experiences) and still be partially masked.
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ah, you said the magic word!
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“…remain on my desk…” Loved it.
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I sometimes think we reveal more in our poems than we do in person to person conversations. The mask slips on occasion …
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