words

a poem on how difficult it is at times to write poetry; how the process works, from emotion to thoughts to words; Robert Frost`s definition of poetry

words

At times, I feel so uninspired, empty

having no words to share with anybody

yes, I know they are moving deep inside

living in the light of sweet innocence

feeding on stored up laughter

childish conversations,

memories of safe places;

demanding nothing but my presence

still breathing, but scattered, and

afraid to come to the surface of reality;

sensing they have no place

appearing only once in a while

random, like a quiet child

suddenly verbose

then filling up every fiber of my being

with energy and confidence,

at least, for a little season

ignited by emotions,

thoughts formed from

the blessings of God

the contentment after a good meal

the purity of pleasure; without guilt

the silence of a faithful lover

the musings of a beautiful woman;

fanning their embers to flames;

yet, even that is temporal

and vanishes when the skin cools,

the magic of friendship,

love without perversion

is love indeed;

wanting nothing needing nothing

this is of more permanence

but I digress; it is the absence

of words I try to speak of, and

these are the elements that give them life

Author's Note

all honest comments are welcome; good or bad, I want to improve as a poet and sometimes it is difficult for me to be objective on my own work, I am on another site that only seems to want to give positive comments, but that can be a bit discouraging...cheers

Reviews

[Echoes of Eros]

Your honest confessions are filled with the wonder we experience as we give ourselves over to the words, these worlds within us. In echoes and silences, how words are endlessly filling us. You say it so powerfully; so eloquently.