I'm not alone when I wax poetic.
Angels and demons churn within
egging me to speak for them,
virtuous or slothful thoughts
when all I want to do
is pen what's in my heart.
Therein are parts and parcels
of everything; be it romance,
faith, or fractured fairytales.
I have recorded stories about
stormy weather, marauding ants,
and infamously what's in my pants.
Even pure waterfalls carry debris
when their streams runneth over.
It isn't any different for me.
I indict what I think to paper
'stead of keeping it in my head
to fester when I go to bed;
in lieu of lewd, salacious thoughts
causing the missus to reminisce
of experiences before I got old.
If, a mind is a terrible thing, to waste,
you'll find my mind an unusual place;
a cacophony of discordant thoughts,
caterwauling like a cat in heat
raucously screeching in an alley
while being at peace with itself.
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| Writing Prompt |
Write a poem sharing an emotional feeling about something such as: life, death, war, injustice, marriage,loneliness, loss, hope, laughter, or a subject that might not be listed. Express an emotion such as fear, anxiety, love, hate, disgust, indifference, etc. |
Author Notes
Photo is mine of my wife and sister-in law (1978) on Po' Boy Farms, Polk County NC, daughters of a life time farmer who went it alone, successfully, as his girls grew tall like crops he planted.
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