Poetry
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A Sidewalk Tale
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Strolling down an unfamiliar street
in the City, last spring; Trying to find relief from the legendary Writer’s Block, that has been reported to afflict Others more talented than me. Vertical Divider
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Oh, how it pains me, this Block;
This absence of ideas, for a year and more. Will this new scene resurrect my senses? And give me more stories to tell? Or, am I forever doomed to Mentalis Blockitis? A scourge from the ages. |
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Looking sideways at a pretty girl going by,
I stumble into a sign, placed on the sidewalk. Who put this sign in my way? I ask out loud. A man could stumble-- a woman could stumble; Anyone could stumble. Isn’t there a law banning street clutter to protect innocent pedestrians? Recovering my balance, I read the first lines of the sign: “You May tell a tale that takes up residence in someone’s soul,” Whose sign is this? I grumble. Where am I on this dreadful street? This strange neighborhood, with no concern for the safety of mankind? I regain my balance and look up. Oh, Hell! It is some dumb bookstore, trying to entice a passerby to enter with its know-it-all writers’ philosophy and cutesy graphics. Well, they won’t get me to enter, with such a specious entreaty, I decide. Then, I read some more of the sign standing in my way: “Becomes their blood, and self, and purpose.” Ye Gads! I mutter, How pretentious of someone; Some over-confident writer, or self-appointed observer of the literary scene. Vertical Divider
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To suggest that a writer’s words
could infect a reader’s blood, and self, and purpose, with a simple tale. The Writer’s Seer continued: “That tale will move them, and drive them, and who knows what, they might do,” That’s a scary thought, I think to myself. Are the writers of Horror Tales, Vampire Tales, and Murder Tales, responsible for all the grim things that happen in this world? No! I yell out loud. My stories, my tales, are mine alone. No one can take them! Unless-- Unless someone reads them, And understands my mind. Hmmmm. I don’t know what readers of my tales may do. Could they do Good Things? Is there still Charity in the world? And then, the Writer’s Seer won me over: “Because of it, Because of your words.” Who is this Writer’s Seer? I wondered. The sidewalk Sign gave the attribution: Erin Morgenstern; The Night Circus I will have to look up that person, I decided. Do a Google search. After I go home and write the story of A Sidewalk Tale. |
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About Mike Lambert
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