Places unnamed, faces blur
coffee so thick, dressed floor swims
mermaid knows what needs
to be met,
not conversation
Quiet can give
couched restful head thoughts,
back flat all else elevated
poking sky holes ball point pen size
Eyes already closed
body drapes bed linen
pillows, with sides of cold
now plate my heavy head
need to get sated, not sedated
Where ever I am sate,
Ear bones move to vibrate,
to the secret code of songs
pen touches paper,
spill ink in
that moment,
calm
is balm,
fear becomes vapour.
A poem is born.
Challenge today was today take normal prose type information I chose, my favourite places to write, and by dropping some words (the , at, that) anything that is not CONTENT,you might be able to go to prose to poetry.... So my favourites;
Coffee shops, couches, bedroom naps, music, in combination writes my poetry sanctuary written while listen to Good For Grapes, one of BC's finest groups, I would call them young, but they have been at it for about sure 8 - 10 years...