Letters of a Voyage

Seriously, I need to get over this poem. It wasn't one that I intended to put ANY time into, and we are now on the third re-write. But I like it better now, please don't look at the old ones. I am not deleting them only because I promised myself I wouldn't delete the ones I thought were crap (we would be left with very little material here, and they are all apart of the process, right? RIGHT? thank you.) 

( A Roost for Words )

This involved a fair amount of poetic license. This poem (in it's earliest, most humiliating iteration) was begun on a napkin, but has been finished and edited in a notebook I try to avoid sneezing in. Also, I don't drink lattes (I needed the extra syllable and black tea doesn't have the same ring of cowardice). But I am too cheap to buy a moleskin and the sentiment is there.

There is one mistake. 10 points to the person who can spot it, but no smugness because I did it on purpose.

I remain,
Georgie

So I am posting an unfinished poem this week, fate conspired against me I guess. Big Tent's prompt for last week was about steganography--"security through obscurity." I got quickly discourage because, like last week, I felt like I was spending too much energy being clever to fulfill the prompt, than really writing poetry. So in the future, I am going to be more judicous about whether I use the prompt, or just write from another prompt source.

But I am proud of my idea, so I'll post what I do have

( Motivation )

So to start out on a completely juvenile note, I wrote a love poem. I said I wasn't going to, ever, but Big Tent Poetry asked for a conversation poem. They even went so far as to ask "Is there a question you are burning to ask someone? Is there a person (living or dead) you would love to have a conversation with?" And when you put it like that.

I am not named Eve (I am not named Georgie) but the nonspeaking (and for now oblivious) audience member is in fact named Adam. There are a lot of Paradise Lost jokes in our circle.

The full lines are iambic pentameter, mimicking the conversational Lyrical Ballads of Longfellow and Coleridge. But because I don't know a single real person who could get out an entire conversation (particularly of this nature) in iambic pentameter, there are short lines too. The parenthesis are to play around with subtext. I figure even in a fantasy-truth-telling there are still things I wouldn't say out loud.

( To Adam, From a Would-Be Eve )
You can read other great responses at Big Tent's Come One/Come All post for last week, or find this week's new prompt at the same site.

I remain,
Georgie