Without The Lights

It should be easy to write
when the air I breathe
cools and warms at my will,
and the lights flare and dim at my touch.

It should be easy to write
when Homer, Virgil, Dante
long buried in dust, rise as ghosts,

obedient to a click,
laying bare their scripts before me.

I harness the fury of storm and wind,
leash the raging seas,
yet tremble before an empty page.

Armed with alpha and omega
I sear through the blackness of space
only to fall as sawdust
upon a blank, waiting sheet.

Then I begin to wonder:
how did those poets of antiquity do it?
By a thin, sooty flame, beneath thatched roofs
and suffocating walls of mud?

And those bards of the Middle Ages
how did they glow in scarcity and squalor,
with disease eating their lungs
like moths in a velvet chest?

Without speed or connectivity,
without liberty or light, no inkling of space,
no hope of ascent or flight,
how could they create what I don’t?

Author's Note

Thank you for reading. Your thoughts are welcome.

Reviews

[Ayesha Faiz]

This poem is soo true and really honest! It shows the contrast between all the tools we have today and the struggles of writers in the past. It really captures that feeling of pressure and awe. I enjoyed reading this. Beautifully written and deeply relatable.

[DIVYA]

Welcome to my page, Ayesha. We are indeed so advanced and lack nothing by way of resources and comforts and yet there seem to be no Shakespeares or Wordsworths, Omar Khyayyams in our era. I truly appreciate your review and look forward to read your soon. Thank you.

[Ayesha Faiz]

Every word you said is absolutely true. I couldn't agree more. It's a pleasure to be here. Looking forward to reading more of your poems as well!
-Ayesha

[S€H@J]

Each and every word written here is the absolute truth I love the concept and the poem Great job

[jacob erin-cilberto]

A true poet's poem.
Of all the phenomenon that could scare us, for the poet, the blank page is the scariest.

WE always wait for the inevitable, for the well to run dry, hoping against hope that it won't.
Poets survive best they can...and hope that long after they are gone, their poetry might still.
j.

[DIVYA]

Some day, I'll ask you how you write such amazing poetry. Where you draw your inspiration from, how you find the words. Indeed, my friend, we hope that our poetry may live on. I'm 100% sure your legacy most certainly will.
Thank you so much for your thoughts on this poem.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

But imagine if it does not...if we pass on and our poetry just dies with us. Has it all been for naught?
You ask where I draw inspiration? Mostly, from everyday things....but I am not sure where any of it comes from. I am more of a conduit than anything...I get in zones and just write...but it is not really preplanned or carefully developed...just busts out...maybe in some ways I am just a plagiarist since I don't feel like I am responsible for what comes out...I enjoy that it does and that I can get into creative zones...but I am just lucky the words come and sometimes land right.

[DIVYA]

if we pass on and our poetry just dies with us...

Then too, we'd have been a part of something magical...As you said, enjoyed those creative zones and our spirtual evolution and the greatest blessing...how poetry made us connect with others. What you said about how you write just makes me convinced that your poetry is a divine gift to you. And that's just amazing!

[jacob erin-cilberto]

You are right...regardless of legacies or not, it is a magical ride that those of us here at WC are sharing with each other...And yes, I consider my writing a gift which I appreciate very much.

[DIVYA]

We all appreciate you and your gift, my friend. Lucky to have you.

[John the Baptist]

Yes, isn't a blank page, especially one that stays blank, a terrifying thing? But I would bet all of those old timers you mentioned experienced the same thing. The thing to remember is the well is never totally and finally dry while we live. We just have to know how to prime the pump.

[DIVYA]

Absolutely dear John. I'll remember that and keep trying to draw from that well, tough though it is some days. Thank you so much.

[Neha agrawal]

The contrast between power and paralysis is striking. It humbles the modern writer in the presence of ancient giants. This isn’t just a poem. it’s a quiet reckoning.

[DIVYA]

Thank you so much dear Neha.

[Richard🖌]

Omitting your two penultimate verses and final verse's first three lines, of course, I often ask the same question of your poetry.

I think, Divya 🎭
As e'er before, I shall never tire or find disappointment in whatever you've laid before us … but, as sweet aftertastes of refined wine.

Dancing within your words ⁓ many years spent reading, studying skills of those of yore before me, practicing and developing my own ⁓ fond memories are kindled so clearly I cannot help but feel inspired to lite a candle, dip my battered olde pen, 'n fetch fresh parchment.

Your knack for creating vivid imagery, deep emotional timbre, elegance in poetic voice, and metaphorical allure, make it quite impossible to not only quit reading, but to resist additional sessions admiring this splendidly renderd Free Verse.

Ahhh, You know Me … I could venture into a tome; but, fear not, I'll simply close with a most appreciative expression of gratitude and thanks! ⁓ Richard🌾

[DIVYA]

Dear Richard,

You have so beautifully encapsulated the universe of poetry and poets - Reading, writing, candle light inspiration, creating our own language of imagery and metaphors to communicate with the universe. We're such a diverse group and yet bonded by the same love and quest for words.

Thank you so much. I'm very humbled by your appreciation of my words and I return the same whole heartedly. I hope you keep inspiring others with your great poetic skills always!

Wishing you a wonderful day!

[Richard🖌]

Such a joyous pleasure, Dear Divya, you turn poetical sharing into. 🌺🐝

[JMichael]

I think perhaps those poets and writers lived in far more difficult but adventurous times where their imaginations were only limited by how far they could push it.

The arts were new and artistic thinking and creativity was at its zenith unhindered by so much that has since occurred through time to the present day in which we live and attempt to do the same. We all still suffer from the effects of love, loss, death and many other prominent themes, so perhaps our modern lives are just too constricted and perhaps even a little boring to reach the heights of those in the past. We seem to now live in a literary world where the novel has replaced poetry as the premium of the medium, so its reach and artistic capacity to touch people has waned. Our digital age with the rise of AI presents a mortifying picture of just where the written arts will go from here.

You pose a most interesting question that, in itself, is wrapped in a cloak of self doubt about the worth of one’s own writing. Perhaps just pushing the boundaries of our own skills and imagination and being content with what we create is the right way to approach it. And to hope some greedy, self important slacker doesn’t plagiarise our efforts, of course!

Thought provoking piece.

[DIVYA]

This is such a thogut provoking review JMicahel. You've touched so many critical things here. The constricted lives, the lack of premium placed on poetry as compared to novels, and the emerging menace of AI.

Quote, "Perhaps just pushing the boundaries of our own skills and imagination and being content with what we create is the right way to approach it."

~ Indeed, I think its all we can do, our best option. I think its the lone recipe for happiness. Acceptance of our limitations and building up on that.

And yes, watch out for that ever prowling plagiarist! :)))

Thank you so much for giving this poem your time and in-depth thoughts. It means a lot to me.

[Betty Hermelee]

Dear Divya
An interesting question...how did they get inspired to write... one reason maybe is because in the middle ages perhaps they didn't have the distractions that we bare today... in our chaotic lives...their lives were more simplistic... so writing came to them easily.... today ,if we find just minutes to sit down and think and
write is nearly impossible..I phones, music, traffic noise, neighbors yelling, sirens, etc... I write at 1:00AM!
love the subject matter of this poem and of course your stunning writing!
Warmly, B

[DIVYA]

You write at 1:00 Am, dear Betty! I love the sound of it! I can picture you scribbling in the deep silence. A smile on your face. Perhaps, I will try it too.

Thank you so much for your thoughts on this poem. I agree with you that there are more distractions in today's world. Less attention span. Perhaps, that affects writers much more than we think.

Wishing you a beautiful day, my friend.

[Betty Hermelee]

Wishing you a beautiful weekend!!!
Warmly, B

[Dennis Wolf]

It's simply how the mentality was. Want it dun? Just do it or have someone else to(if you were in the position to)

Kinda easy, when none of the distractions are there... And yet, to create is one thing, to determine exactly what its worth is and where it fits... that's another.

[DIVYA]

Thanks a lot Dennis. I do so agree. Happy day to you.