The poetic apprentice constantly ponders and plans. He dreams up wondrous writings that through critisms can stand. He imagines mystical miracles he elaborates with his hand Unending possibilities his vast Mind demands
He scoures the depths and peruses vast heights. He indulges crisp, cool mornings and envelops the nights. He listens for lyrical lullabies and observes majestical sights. He journeys throughout space as he embarks on jaw-dropping flights.
The poetic apprentice searches The depths of his heart He dissects it and reads it And tears it apart. Then divulges it's secrets And crafts them into his art
He wishes so dearly that his Work becomes no disaster He keeps his senses in tune In hopes he'll one day be a master As more work pours out the Pressure grows faster and faster But he'll slow down and humble himself As his work evolves and becomes vaster
Now the poetic apprentice sighs A great sigh of relief He wipes off his brow As he mumbles "good grief!" His work is now over his work is complete. He knows they will like it. Its his faith, his belief
The poetic poet now bows To you, his work is bequeathed
I was just trying to bring a writing forward again from a slightly different angle. Just trying to be a little unique with my approach. Ive been thinking a lot of how I need to learn and grow. So through that the idea of an apprentice came to mind. I thought writing in 1st person as I wouldn't create much of a persona with the character. It would have just been me and that's not quite as interesting to write about. That's kind of the thought process with this one.
silence scooped into tributaries navigating thoughts by gondola we glide beneath her Bridge of Sighs tasting the acrid breath of lost words into a palazzo where ideas congregate exhumed from brackish waters poems glistening between our oars' slippery blades at midnight
The body is relaxed, face expressions are lazy. If I was hooked to a polygraph the readings will indicate my mind has been going crazy. Thoughts of: What to do? Where to go? How to love? Who are you? How to succeed? Scraped up, scared up until I bleed. I’ve been working my soul, sometimes I feel like my spirit is on blow, I’ve been working on goals that nobody knows simply because the world doesn’t need to see. Do you feel me? Yes, no, maybe so, indeed!