This poem was influenced by Max Ernst's landscape. The art piece is in the website of the museum (see notes after the end of poem for information) Art can be very inspirational, along with music or other literature. I often find myself making a whole short story based on a few lyrics from a song or a whole novel on one song (or put them on my novels to write list) For those who have writer's block or if the writing business is getting on your last nerves, take a walk in a museum or listen to some music with the sound all the way up. It will not only clear your mind, but it will also inspire some great creativity. Depending on your writer's voice and what you observe, great chemistry can happen (if it blows up in your writing, then you can get the right reaction from you and your readers...science)
Revolutionary
March
People of all shapes and sizes
Yellow, brown, and green
Leaderless
Abandoning their homelands
All different
But with a common goal
Moving towards a small pond
Cutting through rows
Of cornfield
Of meadows and forests
Passing grasslands and valleys
The harsh mountains behind them
They walk into the small pond
They have travelled worlds
All heading towards this one
place
Where they wash away their sins
Some burn
Like bacteria introduced to
antiseptic
Others fade away
Still, a fresh swarm moves in
They all desire this one
Forbidden oasis
Where they quench their thirst
They couldn’t carve a different
path
Or just settle in a different
place
Instead they choose this one
small pond
For its uniqueness
Being the only one of its kind
left
The only reliable one
Free from contamination or
drought
It doesn’t matter that it belongs
to
The few elites
They march right into the
forbidden waters
Manifesting themselves as rightful
owners
Max Ernst, Landscape, 1957. Oil on glass in Art Institute Chicago
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