Inspiration stepping out from behind a stray molecule...



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,



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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