Blank Slate

by Sylvia   Sep 25, 2009


Pedagogues write the words
for the course
across the blackboard.
Render a mistake,
simply erase, begin anew.
If only it were that simple,
an incorrect word,
the lesson changes.

Chalk dust accumulates,
covering surface
with minuscule particles,
debris to be removed,
preparing for the next words
to be written there.

No matter how you scrub,
impressions linger,
barely visible to the naked eye.
Layer upon layer added,
until confusion reigns,
signification destroyed.
An enigma, metaphorical
or allegorical language,
requires ingenuity
and careful thinking for its solution.
What will you write on the slate today?

Copyright © 2009 Sylvia All Rights Reserved

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Latest Comments

  • 15 years ago

    by anand singh

    Very inspiring and beautifully penned.The past will forever linger with the present no matter what.
    A unique and inspiring piece.
    An enjoyable read.
    Paul...

  • 15 years ago

    by Lady Nik

    Chalk dust accumulates,
    covering surface
    with minuscule particles,
    debris to be removed,
    preparing for the next words
    to be written there.

    *I loved this part sooo much. The imagery is amazing and simply flawless. Your diction really adds a nice touch to this poem. I found it was easy to read and understand but that your message has a complex meaning. I also love how you ended it. Questions are always fun to add to poems :) Anyways another wonderful write dear. Nik*

  • 15 years ago

    by Christopher Wry

    Yes pick your word with care or pay the price.

  • 15 years ago

    by Viola

    I really found this quite intriguing. I've never read a poem on the subject so that in itself drew me in.
    The way you end with an invitation to the reader makes it feel more personal and engages the reader into your poem. I like that.
    Great work!
    --Viola

  • 15 years ago

    by Lonely Rider

    If only life was like a slate to be ... rubbing off the mistakes and writing anew...

    //No matter how you scrub,
    impressions linger,
    barely visible to the naked eye.
    Layer upon layer added,
    until confusion reigns,
    signification destroyed.//

    ^^ here I could feel that even a slate have marks ... no matter how much we write the marks never go away... but its different with our lifes... we can never rewrite... but still the confusions are there... of the pst present and future...

    very metamorphical write that was... beautiful thought provoking write... :)

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