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Vic Oct 2019
Yes, I can write forever about you.
But pens run out of ink sometimes.
A poem every day.
18-10-19
Left Foot Poet Jan 2018
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inspired by a conversation with Maira Kalman


******* a name, adopt a persona, let my fingers do the talking,
place the instrumental sharp point tip upon the blankety blank paper,
maestro baton raised, coordinating,
the first sound, the vocal chords trembling,  
the first thought, the ultrasound image, entrance of a first violin,
coalescing into, into the initializing single primary phonation,
the stinging geometry of chance at last,
throwing  down the gauntlet, glove slapping, and the
tendons tense, the mouth opens, release and indentation,
a letter's curvature, a black and white downward stroking,
a sign is televised, revealed and released

a one way only sign

time bends knee, gravity suspended, terror morphs to
expelling rapid firefights of imagery needy for spacing,
even pauses mid-word  leave just this:

where is the in in
intimate?

are you the in in
inmate,
or the jailor at the gate?

you swear never again

until committing once more,

a sentence commutation, by committing a first sentence,

and the greater toll taken and paid for,

and the in in in-nate,
questions your sanity

happily


<•>

9/17/17 10:55pm
Write
When hurt or happy
The heart knows it best
Yes write, right  :))
http://indiansongtranslations.blogspot.com/2008/06/english-translation-of-jaoon-kahan-bata.html?m=1
Jim Davis Oct 2019
The Moving Finger writes;
and, having writ
Moves on:
nor all thy Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to
cancel half a line
Nor all thy tears
wash out a word of it.
Apropos for our profession of poetry I believe!  

From Wikipedia:  Omar Khayyam (/kaɪˈjɑːm/; Persian: عمر خیّام‎ [oˈmæɾ xæjˈjɒːm]; 18 May 1048 – 4 December 1131) was a Persian mathematician, astronomer, and poet.[3][4][5] He was born in Nishapur, in northeastern Iran, and spent most of his life near the court of the Karakhanid and Seljuq rulers in the period which witnessed the First Crusade.

The Princeton Encyclopedia of Poetry and Poetics quotes the tradition that the Persian quatrain-form, the ruba'i, originated in the gleeful shouts of a child, overheard and imitated by a passing poet.
annh Sep 2019
The writer is unwritten until he writes;
But ne’er of the unwritten does the written writer write.

‘There is nothing new except what has been forgotten.’
- Marie Antoinette
B D Caissie Sep 2019
You may take our words and make them yours.

But our fiery spirit is what makes a true writer soar.

We scribble with our hearts, like so many who’ve come before.

For most it’s therapy for their internal raging wars.

Our words are endless like waves crashing along the shore.

Slowly eating at your conscience receding more and more.

Like the rising and setting of the sun our words will endure.

Therefore armed with our pens it’s you we feel sorry for.
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