Who would have guessed it
My love for every season
Could be distilled and
Captured within these verses
Month by month, year over year.
Tag: poetry
Is the inkwell dry?
Were the pages burned?
Brushes forgotten?
The season is upon us,
Where have all the poets gone?
Poetry is hard
And I have but fewer words
To describe today
My mind is running on fumes
What will happen tomorrow?
So many fragments
Single lines or dry couplets
Unfinished seedlings
Left to fallow in the wake
Of a long and busy week
The page and I stare
Blankly back at each other.
A game of chicken.
“How do you write poetry
When days all run together?”
Each spring they gather
From all corners of the World
Ink at the ready
Listen closely, Close your eyes
You can hear the poets sing.
Hello my ink well!
Yes, it has been a long time.
The longest March yet!
But do not worry so much,
Last year was just a chapter.
Let us turn the page,
Take up the quill and begin,
A new storyline,
An adventure to fill up,
Our weary bodies and soul.
Why is it harder
To put my pen to paper
This year is still cursed
Fuck you year twenty-twenty
I am so done with your shit
With minutes to spare
She lets the words flow through her
Destination-less
Spitting black in on the page
Rorschach in all its beauty