Working in unison.

On this blank page, as my fingers move

They make indentations in each groove

Sowing seeds between each line.

 

At first there are many muddled thoughts

Some, at this time will come to naught

At a future date, they will be resurrected.

 

In the future into poems injected

Sewn into the fabric of a page

Perhaps give comfort, even outrage.

 

They, like the writer will never know their fate

Until the writer sits down to relate

Then, with a sudden sharp jab of pen on page

 

A stage is set, a page is printed

The dark recess of the mind spilled out

A reason always to enter the darkness of the poetic mind.

(c) Chris Black. August 2018

~The Poet’s Poet~

Hear the spoken word version @

4 thoughts on “Working in unison.

  1. Oh Chris your words flow so smoothly and you make it sound so easy….. My blank white page is still snow-white, my thoughts are betterer when I’m in between the blank-ets, in a nearly subconscious dream world. Or maybe a few more read wines, or perhaps the plumber worked too hard this week and I’ve basically hit the wall…. looking for another brick in the wall…..

    Liked by 1 person

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