I told letters not to be jealous of numbers, citing e=mc2.
But they snickered back, You think you know a thing,
once you have named it? You’ve no skin in this game at all!
Cheeky little buggers, they’ve summed me up
Some poems write themselves quickly, while others are a misery to tease out. Soulless quickly shot to ‘full-on, 5-bell, over-the-top misery’ and has, since then, dragged itself ten miles beyond. The revision history says that I started this poem in mid-2015 and, as you’d expect, made many changes at the start; it was then revised occasionally in 2016, frequently in early 2017 and finally given up as a lost cause until September of 2018, at which point I started re-reading earlier versions to get re-inspired. Considering it is such a short little thing, I cannot understand what it is about it that it demands such attention, but that is the way of stubborn children.
So now, ready-or-not, done-or-not, good-or-not, misery-or-not, it’s in a post near you. 🙂
Thank you for reading Soulless. I humbly appreciate your visiting the Book of Pain, and as always, I look forward to your comments.
The photograph was taken at Coney Island in New York City. To see my photography blog, please visit the Book of Bokeh.
Photograph, poem and notes © John Etheridge; all rights reserved. The poem and accompanying notes are licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported License. This applies to all original written work found on this site, unless noted otherwise. The attribution claimed under the license is: © John Etheridge, https://bookofpain.wordpress.com. The photograph is not licensed for use in any way without the expressed consent of its creator.