WHY DO I WRITE?

Why do I write?
Because I must
or I’ll lose it.
Nothing is so sad
as that half-remembered
phrase,
sly flicker of fin
that disappears
before I can grasp it.

It always comes
at odd times;
a flash of scales
while writing a check,
talking on the phone,
mid-sentence.

If I say to myself,
“I’ll do it later,”
“I can’t be bothered,”
it is gone forever.

That sly little fish
glimpsed in the depths
will never return
exactly the same.

If I drop what I’m doing,
and patiently wait,
poling the depths,
I can pull him out,
listen to his whispers
and throw him back.

He always returns,
but I mourn for
the one that got
away.

THE ONE THAT GOT AWAY

I felt a little nibble.
My hand twitched.
I scrawl a few words,
then wait some more.
I hope for a strike.
My pen waits,
circling white paper,
drawing pictures in the air
as I cast out the bait.

A strike!
My pen races to the right
stops,
then jumps
as I reel in,
hook that sucker.
A flash of fin,
a dazzling leap,
a dash for freedom
into shadowy depths.

I can’t let go now,
this will be a fast fight.
I’m at the end of the line
then it breaks.

The bobber flees,
my heart mourns.
My pen is still and desolate.

THE MASTERPIECE

The pen drags my hand
across the page,
daring me to write words
faster than it can move.
Images, words, phrases
drip from the ink and
burn onto the page as my
hand smokes,
white with heat.

Fingers strain to contain the
flying point and whip the
pen across the page with
uncontrolled fury.
The last words fuse to the paper
and blaze with triumphant glory.
The finished work,
sweated and hoped for,
beams from the page.


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“Why do I Write” Copyright ©1997 by Lindsey Schocke. All rights reserved.
“The One that Got Away” Copyright ©1997 by Lindsey Schocke. All rights reserved.
“The Masterpiece” Copyright ©1994 by Lindsey Schocke. All rights reserved.
Lindsey’s biography page