Accepting some, rejecting others
You think thoughts (of course, what else?)
With mind that thinks in rhyme,
That sings internally in pulse or meter,
With the trying out idea
In one shape, length or other form,
A form poetic, form its norm.
It cannot help it, choosing not to,
Its intrinsic motto “Write!” into
The dead of night, the morning’s bait,
Some inward freight shipped in by nature,
Makes it make ideas clear – and that alone on matt blank paper.
Talking dissipates in air
While written piece is always there,
If only to be found in some museum cellar
Two damp hundred dry years later,
By simile and metaphor-become-reality,
Affecting mankind’s then and future
Through the slow, low burn of poetry.
Trying Out Ideas In Form 8.15.2016
The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II;