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Sep 2015
I always wanted to do spoken word poetry,
but paper is too forgiving.  
It's so easy to pour onto paper
what you think,
how you feel.  
To become what they want...
expect, hope, fantasize...
to hear.  

If there's a misspelled word:
bitterness, anger, frustration, blame...
there is always the spell check.

Or if there's a typo:
misunderstanding, miscommunication,
misappropriation... miss-everything...
there is the backspace key.  

And if all else fails,
and the words are too much:
too far, too long... so long...
there's always delete.  
And start again.

Paper is too forgiving,
I've imagined how it feels:
scribbled on, removed from, blotted out.  
And then discarded once I've been read,
or not.  

I mean, how much paper is recycled
that's never even been touched...
till it's tossed into shredder to be
reshaped, remolded, reconstituted...
to become something else.  

How many poems are written
that never even get read.  
At least words spoken out loud
have a chance if screamed...
or whispered...
loud enough,
to get heard.

Yes, paper is too forgiving
I started writing this as a journal entry and it turned into something else.
Sherry Lore
Written by
Sherry Lore
683
 
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