Metaphoric pain, fickle mind finds creative writer
Shapes to play with and writer blocks smashing
Wormwood, woodwork, retaining walls, building, climbing
Yes, sit on top of a flag pole all day and think,
'By golly gee, if only PG version blinks
Laureate runs to play hide and seek laughing
Lighten up, enjoy the winds of sounds meander
Straight or winding roads, colloquy sent colluvies
Writing down the premise, smoothly fashion sander
Find word in a silver lining, shining brightly
Angles for trepidation, the titanic block
Acrobat of descriptive fact and integer
Food is on the table, modest, it seems a dot
Seasoning barely noticed, creative ideas
Principles repeated, letting meaning breathe deep
Into seas of contemplation, and what comes next
Only thought of motivation, sails on with faith
No set genre, limitations except desire
Accentuating the positive, painted picture on fire
Gigantic block trudges, unwinds melodic beat
Push or force misnomer, needs not apply retreat
Be patient, grow and care, a voice scans wilderness
Care kissing quality, warming words, kindness shared
Simple to complex. care about writing feelings
Wealth of experience, this playground voices lines
Within, beautiful buds waiting to color you
Remember is fashioned or reconfigured hues
Your voice wanting, waiting, smiling to share, imbue
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Comments: 28
Accentuating the positive, painted picture on fire..."
Yes, dear Bill, you put it perfectly... bravo! :-)
Blessings and best wishes - S.
i click on this poem
no coffee yet
so one could bet
that it hurt my head
to understand what was said
So then i have my coffee
and read the poem again
and knew words flowed in the authors mind
in and out and all around
and he must pluck and pick and choose
and Write, to please his muse................................ :)
I picked the same favorite lines as Svetlana plus one at the end -
Within, beautiful buds waiting to color you.
John Beck captured it all in one sentence.
This composition is wonderful.
memoir and poet
Another stunner, Bill.
distractions all competing for attention....all beating their wings
about the Poet's mind with no care for linear travel...I love
overlapping the glimpses and and feeling them tickle one another
with abandon, then float down and rest in a contented
garden of welcoming embrace and smile.....tired but fully sated
from the unfettered release. Gorgeous poem, William!
Sorry, I couldn't resist!
Te he!!
<font size="4">MySpace Comments</font>for posting to my group, Anythingwriting
wonderful writing, and true images.
What John Beck wrote!
Great, William!
I came back for another read and yes, what John Beck wrote and might I add, reading your poetry is like tickling your brain cells, like thinking along a different curve:)
Smashing that writers' block very creatively. I like it.