Argument

Argument

It doesn’t matter

Even when it hurts your soul.

You will never be right.

My Pen

My Pen

It used to excite.

Each stroke pulling at heart strings.

Now it sits alone.

Writing Sober

Writing Sober

A cure for blocked words.

When beer can do the mind right,

Why then write sober?

Peace

Peace

Silence overwhelms.

On the words you left, I dwell.

Smiles ease the pain.

2013 Resolution

I’m putting this in writing.

Not because my soul is aching for it, but because I read a book that said in order to realize ones goals, one must actually see them.

I’ve lost my way.

Word counts became too high, books got too wordy and the romance in words became lost in acronyms.

IDK, sometimes I wonder what’s the point?

No one feels words anymore.

I too have fallen victim to the unpersonalized world of speed language.

In an OH EM GEE world, the pen was replaced.

My goal is to revitalize my burning desire to feel the syllables.

I will become familiar with the feeling of pen on paper… fingers on a keyboard.

I will grovel to the undying glory of verbage and find my way back to its familiar camaraderie.

I will accept the title of Writer/Poet/Blogger.

My heart shall once again bleed the words unspoken.

For I am Pathetic.


(to be posted on my poetry library https://pathetic.org/library/6371)