...my words are but a drop in a pool of ink, deep enough
to drown in
shallow enough to float, abliss
& touch the bottom
of a soul...
these
are my complexities
~A~
I journey to and fro with my pen; with open mind, in search of
inspiration, "move me!" I scream in my brain...
I need not go far these days, whether the topic be bold or demure...I see poetry.
Come,
tell me a tale, make me laugh, weave a saga; report the news...
I await; longing.

1 Comments:
Tell me. Where does your inspiration flow from, that turns the prosaic into poetry?
Is it music that creates the allure of words within your mind and spills them onto paper for others to read, or is it some deep emotional bruise, so catastrophic that everytime you brush up against a surface it imprints itself there?
Or is it a special muse. Someone whose mind blends and bends words in such a way as to cause thoughts to cascade helplessly through your pen, unstoppable and intense?
What cosmic well do you ladle up your words of wisdom? Share them with us here and tell us wherefore does your inspiration spring...
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