DEADENED MIND

The written word,

doesn't need to be 

hung, Drawn altered 

And quartered.

 

Unless it's written

in poets blood,

Then the perspective

drops with a thud.

 

From where I sat,

There's no need

to b negative.

I'm positive of that.

 

I've often thought

Remorsefully,

The written word 

Never comes forcefully.

 

Crumbled paper,

Thrown across the floor.

As an empty mind,

Tries to write once more.

 

A dead end mind,

Stymies my right to write.

Tomorrow's another day,

I'll try again another night.

 

 





Poetry by Alan J Ripley The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 35 times
Written on 2022-06-04 at 00:05

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Uncle Meridian The PoetBay support member heart!
I like the second stanza a lot! And the whole poem gives us proverbs and apothegms about the art that engender and nourish reflection.
2022-06-04