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Ars Poetica

Crinkled and knotted,

Your mind pushes far beyond the last

Fluid dimension of thought.

Words and images

****** out, crossed out, and beaten.

Their meaning disentangled

From the syllables they’re bound to.

Stretched,

Pulled,

Prodded,

Poked,

Rolled,

And torn open.

Mile by mile, down a endless road,

Making no explicable progress.

Broken and battered,

Words, attempting equilibrium,

Burn off energy enough to care.

The unthinkable dread of empty canvas

Impedes on the black and white tile

That clangs too loudly

For reason to be heard.

Inspiration becomes an

Agonizing, ever-twisting labyrinth.

The climactic moment drawn out too far,

Centuries too far,

Tortures and torments you,

Tears you to pieces

Until, at last, you

Are indistinguishable from

The pain you’ve offered,

The discomfort you’ve endured,

The itch you’ve tolerated.

And the balance finally restores itself.

Rights you just at the point of ultimate collision,

Lets you steal a breath,

Before the next thought starts to pull.

Request permission to use this poem
c
Written by
catherine-rand
American
Published
Jan 29, 2010
Lines·Words
37·155
Permission

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