What  saves a poet's sanity
soup and salad of the mind
comforted with scattered warmth
& lines drawn in the sand

are there ever any perfect words
I draw blood from my pen
overflowing vessels of circumspect denial
pondering an accepting benevolent heart

discriminating souls wave a vigilant flag,
poetry a force of conjecture and calculated risk
speaks who and what we are without completion

I lie naked on these shores of cadenc'd bliss
a'waiting a fate worse than creativity's abolition
confirmation comes served in slices of firmament's breath~

exhaling again to capture the essence of vaulted contention