CHARCOAL FOOTPRINTS

I am a poet
a pauper without a home
I am a rain puddle in a world of stone
Experience brings no reward
poetry aches in my bones
My soul can afford what time will record of me...

Charcoal footprints, prints in ash

surpass my middle, my metaphysical
Draped in liquid lines,
lines Casting ripples to be heard
A life deferred in written word
in my hand I hold
The gift of fools gold
No cost, no coin for thee
Senses provoked,

I am set free from fire
and brim-smoke

The holy ghost pens the final stroke

within me...

Reviews

[Sleepless]

nice i like it it realy talks abotu how poet feel they are just a girl a guy but their addicvtion is writing poems and their partner is their pen!:)

[Mockingbird]

very insightful poem, how poets starve for their art and we have the courage our convictions. beautifully written.

[Victoria PoetryBunny]

Love the first line. :)
Love these lines here too:
"I am a rain puddle in a world of stone"
"poetry aches in my bones"
"Draped in liquid lines, "

Lovely write. Just... lovely. :)

[Kaylor Mason]

Brilliant penmanship . . . there's little else to say

[WhiteWillow]

So relateable!! Love the flow, no words wasted here.

[Jeremy Baker]

Outstanding writing here Rene!

[Coyote Poetry]

The words are true for a writer. In the end. What will be left of us? I like the way you create thoughts using examples I could grasp and understand. No weakness in this excellent poem. I did like the final line.
Coyote

[freelancejouster]

this is wonderful. this is one of the first rhyming poems that i've felt drawn to in some time.

[Thomas Fitzgerald]

Indeed, you are a . . . . . poet! x

[Chris]

Defining oneself...