There is a curve
Through which I know I must pass
There is no straight line ahead of me
And I am lost without an absolute.
I am so inauthentic
Claiming to embrace chaos and the unknown
That’s just one more lie
On top of all the others.
Fingers tap on my keyboard like electric shocks
Because if I am untrue then my words are untrue
And for that there are consequences.
Write what you know
Yet when that is fragile
Truth atop a razor blade
Impaled before finally toppling off its edge
Whose life ends up on this page?
Not mine.
I can erase the past and create the future
With these strokes
But the present turns too sharply
And remains unwritten.
” if I am untrue then my words are untrue” literally made me gasp…how many times do we sit at our work and fight to write because we feel like we are lying on the page? I read an interview with Ginsberg in The Paris Review where he talks about how he never lies to his muses – he treats them like his best friend. He said we can lie to every one else but not them. It changed my life as a writer. I write about things I don’t tell because I cannot bear to face them if I lie.
The back end of the piece is equally full of power “Truth atop a razor blade Impaled before finally toppling off its edge” is such a visceral image of how it feels to be/write/live authentically.
Thank you for being so honest about this struggle to be authentic. The end result is beautiful!
Thank you so much for your thoughts!! This was my 12th and final hour poem and like the title said I was having writer’s block at that point and was getting frustrated and this was the result. I think Ginsberg was 100% correct-the words become your best friend and you cannot lie to them. I didn’t know at the time this was where the muse was going to take me but that’s the great mystery of it I suppose!
There are so many powerful lines in this poem that I love:
Because if I am untrue my words are untrue
Truth atop a razor blade.
This whole poem speaks to me.