We don't fight
With fists or guns
But with words;
Ideas, ideals and puns.

I hold a pen
              It’s yours
It won’t write for me
Suit my hand
My words
My mood
Even if it did
                 I think memory
              Is best left within
Rather than releasing ink
That’s beyond written expression

Feathers fill an earthenware vase
                                         Tall quills  
Suiting ink wells
Scribing words beneath candle
Signing treaty’s  
                           Secured with wax
The Magna Carta
The Declaration of Independence
                         Momentous things

But these are simple feathers
Collected for aesthetics
For smudging
For connection
   For reasons other than to write

Sliding of beads
So therapeutic
To see how this became that
What makes up the whole
                           Touch each fraction

No need for equation of form
To find value of one emotion
                               Against a known
Or
Tangents
Or
Ometries
When the only calculus of interest
                                    Is sum of self

No experience required
No camouflage
Just patience
         Suppleness of thought

Windsocks tell of things
                     Beyond control
Slight shifts
Reflect calm
                      Between chaos

Whilst watching windsocks
Opinions rest
Until hit by storm
      Then shift in an instant