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


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.