to write a poem,
what is the point
to pick such topics
just the right word,
that amazing phrase
an awe inspiring emotion
to put pen to paper
or more commonly now
fingers to keys
why such an urge
who does it benefit
the writer, the reader
or maybe the dog?
should it be vivid
should it be magical
how about beautiful
or even disturbing
should it make you laugh
or tear
or should it just simply
make you think
hard and deep
and even self question
or bring you back to that moment
way back when
is it because
you have a logolepsy?
or maybe ahypnia?
it's starting to become achroous,
this examination of the verse
when all I want
to make is an alborado,
to sing your praises
and write about pageism
why not?
this galanty is so much fun,
are poems a paideia?
or are they just to say your point,
a rush of emotions
a release of the tension
the sharing of love
and the caress of sadness
though I'd rather aim to macarize
and cause habromania
or dacrygelosis
so don't moue
it's not my fault
you'd rather patavinity
I should just write a decastich
I know, I know
all this garniture,
is causing garboil
stop this gemebund
to write is to write  
be poem, story, song
they are all precious
in their own self




Satisdiction

There's a wound in my wish,
To be healed by you.
There's a clamour in my wish,
To be soothed by you.
There's a dilemma in my wish,
To be unwoven by you.
There's ahypnia in my wish,
To be lulled by you.
There's a monster in my wish,
To be killed by you.
There's dough of clay in my wish,
To be moulded by you.
There's a distance in my wish,
To be scaled by you.
There's a formless feeling in my wish,
To be shaped by you.
There's a wandering desire in my wish,
To be ceased by you.
There's a place in my wish,
To be explored by you.
There's a caged bird in my wish,
To be freed by you.
There's a book in my wish,
To be read by you.
There's a longing in my wish,
To be loved by you.
There's something excess in my wish,
To be curtailed by you.