More on perspective

The great writer finds the nut of that perfect sentence, paragraph, or story within their past's pleasures and pains whether real or imagined. It really is the writer that does the writing. We the reader know that the author is all of their characters, all of their hearts, all of their fists, caresses, and kisses, all of their skinned knees and bandaging hands because it is the author who writes it, creates it, forms it from that pallatte of their soul, palettes of many colors or not.

Alone in beauty

Alone in beauty she walks
A hallway lit with her reflection
She wants to see herself
Without
a mirrors deception
She takes a pen
And jabs it in
To her heart and begins to write

Electric Friend

I miss I
mirror for my soul to find reflection
words as feast
to nourish this beast
of untamed intellect
I found I
some years ago
while travelling a lonely road
although I know we are seperate
and distinct individuals never destined to meet
in meat form
there is a subtle connection
where the words of one
call from my soul

Perspective my butt!
get back to punching the keys kiddo!

On the lack of inspiration

My head is empty of ideas.
There are no warm phrases to light my way to the next sentence.

I find no angst stuck to my shoe
no humor bubbling on up and through

I find no message
that calls out for use
the ryme and reason
is out of season
everthing feels loose


I wonder
when I can feel to write
where does it comes from
and where does it go

I like to feel
to write
with warmth, with phrases that light the way to the next sentence.