reading you makes me want to write, then write some more
that you were able to say it just so pushes me to plow ahead
to speak the nonsense things while sitting in my bed
you help me drift and sift through words lingering in the air
with hopes they might land lightly on the page
for what you wrote has become my nightly stage
Tag: Inspiration
After Reading Stanley Kunitz
what are memories?
a skipping stone
under layers of
silt, bottom of
this primordial riverbed
water rushing over
unaware that time
has passed, soon
all is forgotten
So I Keep On Writing
Mary Oliver writes of
flowers and she does it
very well, as I just stare
at words, wishing that
goldenrod could mean
as much to me, stuck in
this urban world, nature
on the fringe, everything
I cannot see, because in
the car I move too fast
to even smell the air,
but excuses will never
win, nor are they really
true, so I keep on writing,
this much I know to do
Pleading For The Muse
i give up
nothing to say
words won’t play
for me tonight
want the muse
to sing that
siren song, crash
me into rocks
but no, her
throat is raspy
and i’m just
a mere mortal
not a god
or someone worthy
of such love
but that voice
please, just that
strong slight voice
where are you?
Wait for the Rain
BIG thanks to WestWard Quarterly for publishing Wait for the Rain.
Thomas Edison Prays
I read somewhere
Thomas Edison had
a thinking bench
upstairs alone in
that room he
just sat and
thought and thought
and sat, sometimes
he would find
ideas and sometimes
they found him
because he was
waiting and not
really doing much
of anything, kind
of praying to
silence that something
would arrive and
if he sat
long enough and
was very quiet
something always did
Daniel W. Polk 