Dear Blank Page

Dear blank page, forgive me,

I spoil your perfect whiteness with my words.

I do not wish to dirty you, I do not want your scorn

Not out of vanity have I come to you

Not out of pride

I come here to you driven

Driven by the urge to write

An urge I do not wholly understand

An urge that gets me out of bed while others sleep

An urge that makes me seek you in the dark.

Your whiteness was perfect, so was your form

Before I wrote on you the first word.

Now you have lost your purity

You have lost the possibility of becoming

Poetry or prose, an essay or a report

So many other things than what you have become.

Please donโ€™t be angry with me,

Please don’t show me scorn,

Through my words, such as they are,

Your whiteness still shows.

You were perfectly white a few minutes ago,

You were like so many millions of white pages,

You were sleeping in an oblivion of white.

Now, dear paper, with each new word

You become more than what you were before.

Whatever words I write on you,

However insignificant they are,

Please do not hate me, please understand:

I have woken you up,

I have roused you to life,

You are no longer perfectly white

But imperfectly alive.

*

PS: This was written on an unfortunate piece of paper.

**

What is the last thing you wrote on a sheet of paper?

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30 thoughts on “Dear Blank Page

  1. This was so beautiful an made me so happy. Your post’s make me feel so fresh, and clear my mind. your writing is simply beautiful. Thank you. The last thing i wrote was a song ๐Ÿ˜‰

  2. I love this. Your words are beautiful and I would be glad to be paper as long as I didn’t write on it. The last thing I wrote on paper was another chapter of another book.

  3. One of my poems, as a matter of fact, I write all my poems first in paper before I type it out in my blog. I believe that feel of pen and paper far more enthusiastic than typing on a black keyboard in front of a illumines screen.
    BTW! This is by far the best poem I’ve read. Keep on writing mate!

    1. Handwriting is a wonderful experience indeed. I try to indulge in it as often as I can. There are times, however, when the density of prose becomes so heavy that the pencil seems to struggle against it. I’d handwrite everything, but sometimes I just need my computer. You may want to check my post “Are You a Handwriter or a Typer?” It’s relevant to our discussion. ๐Ÿ™‚

  4. This post was so good!! I am still quite new to WordPress and your blog is one of the first few I followed! Lovely posts to read through and love the “P.S.” message at the end of this one ๐Ÿ™‚

  5. I love the play of words in your piece and how the paper becomes the center of attention. I love your piece. The last thing I wrote on a white paper was a plan of how to grow young people into leaders

  6. I’m a french people, who write in french (obviously) and I started wrote a bite in English, anyway that will never be as good as yours, I just find your blog and I love the way you write. Last things I wrote was one of my texts, I like to write them in a book. I think you don’t care but never mind I wanted to answer to your question (like I said in french, i’m just a french student so please don’t matter all mistakes I do in this comment).

  7. I love this, Vincent. I’m glad you ended it the way you did. I kept thinking while reading it: You are not, in fact, sullying its loveliness; you’re perfecting it. A paper is a vessel for thoughts; thoughts are vessels for beauty, love, and change.

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