Poetry In Motion
My fingers clutch around the pen
its tip drifts across the paper,
as the ink touches a blank canvas
I gain the gift of a creator.
I poise my tool of imagination
ready to pour my pondering,
famish for inspiration
around the room my eyes are wandering.
Through every nook & cranny
Ins & outs . . . . high & lows,
Searching for that trigger
To relinquish my prose.
Abrupt eruptions develop
that interrupts my focus,
shoulders hold a mind full of poetry
but their motion is too slow to notice.
My mind becomes a scavenger
scurrying through past memories,
suddenly I think of Joanna
& the last words she said to me.
“Harry you have changed. . .
it seems as if your no longer the same person,
no longer when we make love
is our hearts merging.
Instead its your lust
your basic sexual attraction,
while im performing my duties
for your satisfaction.
So its time we ended
search happiness in new angles,
& we cant pull some strings to sort it
for you have made them all tangle.
So this is goodbye. . .
I will always love you in a funny way,
but im afraid our puppy love
has now gone stray.”
I miss her every second. . .
it will be long to cure this heart of mine,
but I’ll smash every clock I see
to help me kill the time.
For all I did wrong
that this angel I did not cherish,
your gorgeous face & beautiful heart
& those lips I did not relish.
I hope you find someone
that will take you and show you bliss,
that would make you so happy
you will be lead to an alter where you kiss.
& from there you continue
you give life to those as beautiful as you,
& they give you joyful days times 10
for every bad memory I gave you.
You were my heart
poetry to me was my emotions,
& I’m dead if you are not happy
so please continue to put. . .
Poetry in motion.