I am never sure
when I start to type exactly where I am going
I am not the type of writer
who
does outlines
plans
organizes my thoughts in order to create flow
nah, not me…
instead I am stuck like with lightening
one word or phrase
enters the void
and I am compelled to poet
all over all of you
thanks for the outlet –
fanciful visions play across my mind’s eye
much faster than ever I could six finger type
so I pick the bright ones
and try to explain them
in universal terms
so as to create an emotional response
I feel that if something strikes me emotionally
it is bound to reach someone else
thus, we have a momentary connection
fleeting
but real
we share ourselves through relation to black and white
esoterically joining in a perfect union
our mental images intertwined
embracing –
words fade to white screen as the moment passes
never again to be found
in the same way
each reading bringing different ideas to the forefront
each writing another attempt to rid myself of this plague
each moment lasting forever on separate planes of existence
which means all of you
belong to me
as least for this time –