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“Everywhere I go I find a poet has been there before me.” ― Sigmund Freud Poets are the messengers of the soul. The expanders of the heart. The sailors, the gypsies, the wanderers. If I would want to belong to anything, to anyone, to anywhere, it would be to belong to the poets. But belonging is such a drag. So harsh in its desperate plea. Maybe I just long to BE. Not to belong to anything anywhere. Just to be. A poem just IS and poets just ARE. And so I. Just I. Just AM.
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AuthorIn April 2020, while experiencing her first ever global pandemic, Tamar Pelzig pledged to write something every day, even if it's only a word, so she welcomed to the world a daily blog to keep her creative writing wheels rolling. Categories
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October 2022
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