Inspiration stepping out from behind a stray molecule...

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13/9/16 About the writing process and questions about where it originates

Putting the finishing touches

on a poem,

like a cake decorator

icing a cake.

Just so.

 

How do I know it is complete?

When do I say "that is the final word"?

 

These words spill out of me,

like a razor down a fat vein..

they just flow like blood.

Dark imagery, light, love,

imagination...

 

All of it, from somewhere inside me,

invisible to my own inward scouring eyes.

I have no idea what will come out

until I sit here at the keyboard,

with a pen to put to paper...

 

...with you listening to draw it out of me,

it comes, like the Four Horsemen, it comes

and there is no stopping it.

 

...unless I miss my moment...

 

Oh the agony of a lost inspiration!

 

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