I write because in me, living flows.
I write because my bones fill up, injure me,
hold the drink of Gods, and my wit.
I write to rescue rhyme and revel,
for this chance walks in beauty and starry skies.
I write to allow you to meet in tender light
one half impaired raven, yet eloquent,
a heart in purple spread wings.
I write because eyes in the temple on the shore roar around me.
I write because the desert springs
won the last drop in the well as my fainting spirit fell.
I write to drink the libation.
I write to pour a dream.
I write because the stars, burnt for beacons, look
into the volcanoes, forests, fire hour by hour.
I write to resurrect faded eyes and useless wings.
I write to give light to one thought:
an altar-place — the Universe.
I write to release vitality,
a quick root with millions of tongues and spirit.
I write to give birth to little objects, extreme in all things.
I write to tell you about kingdoms making monarchs’ spirits kindled –
a fever madmen have envied.
I write because twilight, flickering, ascends to pleasure
I cannot conceal.
I write for the shadow, bubbling to the skies,
shivering in a palace I saw
from a thousand years of proud towers.
I write for distance.
I write for motion.
I write to show you exhaustless music in lieu of age.
I write for the Eternity in dreams.
I write because of courage, the human breath.
I write to fly a paper kite: onward, soul!
I write because rhyme brought this world about.
I write to inaugurate a new youth.
I write for the stream to swim and play in.
I write for fiction: she gathers a repertory of
facts, contradiction, truth.
I write to weave a different story, a variety, a lucubration.
I write to scoff at society: a prominent sameness,
a dull likeness of no great promise, a monotony parade.
I write to break ranks and leave
the masquerade, the ennui.
I write to balance the scale with the heart.
I write to rhyme at the sun and stars,
to mountains roving into the night,
to the heart as the moon.
I write, for the soul must pause to breathe.
I write because we are made for loving the light unquenchable.
I write because we dwell on earth as livid, living flowers.
I write to bless a flame!
Composed/Constructed 10/29/12 and 10/31/12
This poem was constructed for We Write Poems Prompt #129: I write (because). This prompt directed us to write a list poem, containing the reasons why each of us writes.
I say that I “constructed” this poem for a reason. It’s a perfect irony that I chose to use someone else’s words for parts of this poem, for this poem is a transmutation of an erasure poem I’d constructed stringing several of Lord Byron’s poems together and erasing most of the original words. Lord Byron’s words are indicated in purple.
I believe that this transmutation gives voice to at least some of the reasons I do write. It is my hope that this half-impaired raven has given a little bit of sparkle back to the Universe from the collection of stolen goods I have stored through most of my lifetime.