Matt Benney says the thing about blogging is that when you have things to blog about, you're too busy to do it, and when you have time to blog, there's nothing to blog about. True, true. But I prefer to think of it more like this:
Silence
By Billy Collins
There is the sudden silence of the crowd
above a motionless player on the field,
and the silence of the orchid.
The silence of the falling vase
before it strikes the floor,
the silence of the belt when it is not striking the child.
The stillness of the cup and the water in it.
the silence of the moon
and the quiet of the day far from the roar of the sun.
The silence when I hold you to my chest,
the silence of the window above us,
and the silence when you rise and turn away.
And there is the silence of this morning
which I have broken with my pen,
a silence that had piled up all night
like snow falling in the darkness of the house-
the silence before I wrote a word
and the poorer silence now.
2 comments:
It is true.
The blog becomes a diary of the times between times.
I think of a good post at work and all day I'll think about how to write it. How I'll build up to a point, then surprise with a twist. How I'll be eloquent, or punchy, as I need.
And then I go home to the arms of my Fiancée, and think no more of it.
I have no doubts that my blog unwritten would be an awesome read.
I hate that poem
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