Journey of Pen's Belief
 
Thoughts, like blood, scroll through vast
mapping of surface journey;
words, bursting like brain bubble
leaving me weak and one-sided
by shunted sluice onto some printable
material that soaks up my poems
like gauze gains color at a heavier weep ~
 
phrases, unrolling themselves; given birth
by flick of eye on a particular prism,
bouncing off an evocative ellipse
that reminded me of home   of them    of you
 
of me; shouting, singing, mumbling
crying, moaning, laughing syllables
into ether to roam round Universe
and find their way back to me ~
 
poems, like young faces, waiting in heaven
wistfully hoping I find a place for them
here in Muse’s womb.  Want, for a spouting breast
of nuance’s nectar, restlessly pokes at my shoulder
saying, "Write!  For god's sake, write!"
 
I conspire with my creation, dare my destiny
to make its marks in order to bare history's
witness;  my history, my aching.  I have traveled
a road of madness in the making, with strong stride
of pure passion pulsing somewhere in between
skin and soul belief that there is something worthy yet to pen.