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Click hereHold on,
don't release
your pigeon flock epiphany
to chatter in the void,
to scatter in the sky,
to coo their when
and how
and why.
Hold on,
let it simmer for a while,
answer itself
in echoes mirrored.
Match the shards,
unspoken through vacancies,
with what was left
on the workshop floor,
where you assemble
in pressure panic
power pleasure
pinnacle,
in a climax,
a maximum
climb to an altitude
of invincible attitude.
When in vitro you
left behind dust
that was meant to travel
by your side.
Hold on,
and breathe anew.
Take this inhale
to call the flock
from the sky,
so you can carry
the impact of words
spoken in time.
And no notion
left behind.
Hold on,
beat my heart,
just beat.
Open your eyes.
Then,
write.
A step by step guide to writing poetry ending with the advice ~ Get off your Duff.
I always shot my swab
had sex on the floor
created at work
vitro? is close to velcro right?
then I go to sleep and write...
boy do I got a lot to learn! <grin>
great poem as always Liar
wait...is this a lie?
>>>chuckle<<<<
So that's how you do it...I particularly loved
'When in vitro you
left behind dust
that was meant to travel
by your side.'
Very cool. I never would have thought of that, and it seems so right.