The Write Stuff

I feel like writing today,

yet I have no pearls of wisdom

noting fierce to say

nothing black or white

or in shades of gray…

just feeling the urge to write something today.

 

A poem begins with description

inscription, a collection of dusty old words

when once heard

flow together like a stream

of undiluted thoughts, like a river basin,

like a cluttered old kitchen sink.

 

Added together like a mathematical equation,

the simple geometry of saying the right thing

at the right time

slightly haunts me and gives me pause…

 

I feel like writing today.

I’m not too sure what will come of it,

or what I have to say?

 

I only know in my heart

that I tried to encompass a wide

range of emotions, fleeting thoughts and

vague imagery

in a small poetic refrain.

 

Writing poetry is a lot like chasing the Rain.

When the right words come it’s like a flood

of droplets too fast to catch but too many

to simply ignore. It’s enticing this word game,

deep down inside my head,

if I could pinpoint the root of it all-

 

If only i knew why?

I take so many words,

twist them up together

than toss them in the air-

just to see if they will fly?

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