Liana Mir
Liana Mir reads, writes, and wrangles the muses from her mundane home in the Colorado Rockies and, occasionally, from the other side of the Barrier.
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Portrait of the Scribbler
the kind who always has your back / but forgets to cut you slack; / the kind who wishes harder than / she works, but yet still works
Lyric
Poem
Lyric
Poem
I am one of those people—
(they say you’d have to know me
to love me; do not try too hard)
the kind you wish you’d meet;
the kind you wish you’d never meet:
the kind who makes unnecessary
grand announcements: let
it be hereknown, I feel this way
(you couldn’t care? why don’t you say!);
who transforms life to drama, singing
eclectic lines from favorite songs
(do not worry; this won’t take long);
who softly, yet sarcastically
pedals backward, lunges forward
(uncertainty is so untoward);
who offers love—platonically—
too readily, or so I’m told
(living life is for the bold);
who will listen carefully
until the flash of inspiration
interrupting conversation
(writing is my meditation);
who’s organized and yet chaotic,
whose stacks of papers overflow
(at least I have them, neat or no);
who’s like to answer every question,
even the rhetorical
(I’m just a tad too literal)—
the kind who always has your back
but forgets to cut you slack;
the kind who wishes harder than
she works, but yet still works;
the kind who hopes and then despairs
then hopes again, and then despairs;
the kind who of herself thinks nothing
then turns around and puts on airs;
the kind who tells you right and wrong
by every school of grammar and thought,
then sheepishly admits she’s wrong
and humbly admires your better thought;
the kind who writes and too well thinks
of her own words, of her own words;
who knows that there are better things,
but always comes right back to words.
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Lyric
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Thank you for sharing a bit of your soul in this.
the kind who always has your back
but forgets to cut you slack;
the kind who wishes harder than
she works, but yet still works;
the kind who hopes and then despairs
then hopes again, and then despairs;
the kind who of herself thinks nothing
then turns around and puts on airs;
This. I so relate. *HUGS*
:hugs back: