Poem on a Post-It [2]: Scavenger
A scavenger holding a pen
I find it fascinating to look back on poems I wrote only a couple of weeks ago, and I recognise new details that I wasn’t consciously aware of when the poem flowed out of my pen. In this one, I notice the references to body parts; terms that were part of my everyday vocabulary for so many years that it is perhaps unsurprising that now they are spoken less frequently, they make their way out of my mind in other forms.
This poem was written in ten minutes, as part of
’s #tinywinterpoem challenge. Writing in ten minutes means there is little opportunity for the consciousness to be too involved in the creative process, I found it much more instinctual, even mysterious than other forms of writing. I think that the mind naturally draws towards themes that are very present at that time - so for me writing this, in my transition between surgeon and writer, enjoying my forays to bookshops and searching for inspiration, it’s all very topical.While I continue my hunt for words and inspiration for my career-rebuilding project, I wish you an excellent week.
Louise x
For today’s prompt, I invite you to take in the image of the crow, sitting on a branch, in the poem’s background.
Let it sit with you for a minute or two, and then pick up your pen and write for ten minutes without editing.
If you’d like to share what comes out for you, I’d be so interested to read it - you’re welcome to leave a note in the comments.
For readers using Substack’s voiceover tool, the poem in non-image format is below. In future, I’m considering recording my own audio of the poems, let me know if that’s something you’d be interested in hearing.
SCAVENGER, by Louise Morris I collect words, those long left behind that conjure up worlds, and tales, and rhymes. I lock them away, too precious to wear out on my tongue, but in breath of my lung they remain, til the day they might come out to play. When old sentence bones rearrange they emerge in fresh tones; create tomes anew. How I yearn for the words that I learn, every time that I forage in libraries and bookshops, a scavenger holding a pen.
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These poems and prompts are published every Monday, Wednesday and Friday and are available in the poetry section of Anatomy of a Decision by Louise Morris.
Love this poem , Louise .
The line -
‘In breath of my lung they remain’ - feels so intimate .
Feels like you’ve touched on the juxtaposition of poetry and spoken words . The words are on our breath and we need to bring them to the page. Isn’t this the challenge of every poet that ever was ? To being the breath to the page ? 🙏🏻💫🥰