i lost a poem today,
like dropping a penny--
not gold, not silver
just a dull worn-out brown
stepped on, stepped over
so utterly common
no one would notice it
i lost a poem today
from these threadbare pockets,
there's so few now
i have left to spend,
so few anymore
so few to spare
a loss for words
a dried up pen.
| There was a time when all I had to do was look at a blank page or screen and all the days/nights inspirations would flow freely and fill that creative call from deep within. Not anymore...dried up|
This piece is perfect...all the way around!
I miss my voice and
Oh, how these walls sung here at elite when I was able to sing!!!
|| Posted on 2014-05-11 00:00:00 | by clay | [ Reply to This ] || maybe the ink dries for a reason. the well serves its purpose. we are no longer then the paper. we are just as we should be, i believe.||| Posted on 2014-05-11 00:00:00 | by cornonthekob | [ Reply to This ] || you know what?|
its been 10years since i started haunting this site because a guy i loved ended his life.
i turned to words and there were plenty of them. now i couldnt find two to rub together if you paid me to...
but every now and then theres the promise of words and if i sit on them like a mama bird nests on her eggs eventually something hatches. but when it doesnt i find myself at odds with myself... i mourn what could have been my greatest poem yet.
its been an odd few days to say the least and i understand this piece... it says what i cannot.
|| Posted on 2014-05-02 00:00:00 | by allapo1ogies | [ Reply to This ] |