And what we feel
Within this room so many see
But what we might say
Is simply key
To who and what we are
From black and white print on page
To what sets us apart
Wonderous descriptions of rage
Yes! Knowledge will become - think
about it, virtual collective insight,
pure enlightenment - but not
for long. For gnawing doubt will allways be,
you know, our most devoted companion.
Indeed resolve a prison makes
When entered into as free act
Un prompted
Better know how well it sits
within thy heart
For it full -well becomes
eternal master.
Insecurity looms heavily
with each poet's turn at task
Resolve allows the words to flow
As doubt questions their effect
It is both of these together
That create the well tuned verse
For either left on it's own
Will never touch the heart
and we run and we play never
contemplate the days or the night
for everything is write
every nuance every step
every time we interject deliberate
we can hardly wait to garner
thought it's an all consuming
sport it's as though the thing
is wrought from consummated
magic and our lives would be so
tragic if the muse lost its
will swallowed the bitter pill
of indifference and how could
we carry on?
deze-hier
Apr 21, 2005 1:42pm
Then silence sets in,
as if for consolation.
No cure for doubt or worse,
this indifferentiation.
To set the mind at ease,
we watch the small and quiet
things as they release
our muse and we will buy it.
lovingpoet