*PLAGIARISM* Delayed Repetition

[milo]

Alone with our madness and favourite flower
We see that there really is nothing left to write about.
Or rather, it is necessary to write about the same old things
In the same way, repeating the same things over and over
For love to continue and be gradually different.

Beehives and ants have to be re-examined eternally
And the color of the day put in
Hundreds of times and varied from summer to winter
For it to get slowed down to the pace of an authentic
Saraband and huddle there, alive and resting.

Only then can the chronic inattention
Of our lives drape itself around us, conciliatory
And with one eye on those long tan plush shadows
That speak so deeply into our unprepared knowledge
Of ourselves, the talking engines of our day.

normally I don't care for poems /about/ writing as it seems self-serving and satirical at best but this may be one of the best things I have read on this site to date. Are you certain that you are new at this, you seem to have an expert command of metaphor, rhythm and symbolism?

Well done!