Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

what fuels this jones
to say something, this
yen for the pen, this version of zen

why would I even believe
that it's important, why in the world
would I try so often

to float my raggedy ass raft
down a little bubbling lava stream
on scraps of handy paper

it feels like an addiction,
like even if I decided not to do this
the ink would rain from the verbose sky

and my hand would rise up like frankenstein
move back and forth, up and down
like an entranced cobra

released from his wicker basket
tongue flicking like a wannabe guest speaker
venom on the verge

of something epic.....or not.
and so it has gone in this self imposed church
from youthful soul to long in the tooth

my serpentine struggle
this wriggling desire in a meandering field of grass,
this shedding of skin

Good questions. Why is that feeling so strong?
Dunno. I just roll with it..

Thank you brother poets.....peace, love, and poetry

brilliant, yet full of humility

(my scraps of paper dissolve)

For years now , count them fifty, note books have filled with my scribbles, I have asked the same question,it just is as it is .The poem hits so close to home I had to laugh , no it is not ego, I think it is just a natural state , we put words on paper like a tree grows leafs, allowing for some sun to shine on them. A poets poem for sure!

...go ahead, shed that skin Steve......

wow intent
skin sheds or whatever
bravo, saw!!

enjoyed the comments comrades ....poets in arms