I’ve always contended that I’m not a poet. As a writer though I’ve come to realize I can’t control where my brain goes or what it thinks. Now don’t get me wrong–I can exercise discipline and get my work done when I put my mind to it, but sometimes the muse breaks free and dances on pointed tippy-toes taking my mind to the other side….the poetry side. Here’s what happened today.
~~Knocking~~ by~~Faye E. Arcand~~
so many words in my head
they feed my soul and starve my imagination
vital ponderances t’ward welcomed consequences as
fight to be heard over the cacophony called life
freedom sought, though not always realized
is a story not told, a poem not recited, a song not sung
are they for me only? not to be seized and devoured by others?
they’ll scurry to the caverns–the dark places–tuck and hide
until they’re ready to proffer tangible aptitude and proclivity and
fall out the end of my fingers
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