Confession of a Poet


the silence, the loneliness, the poems of mine

all’re same all’re wired. Even if I try writing

a love poem I’ll write on the warmth the bed

holds after love; I’ll write dryness of mouth

not the taste of lips. vacant, long, blank,

they’re my moxie, they’re my alias.

bear with me readers. I write, solitude,

of sultry disturbance, of my loneliness,

many poems; sometimes different…

xx–

Last 3 lines played with punctuation.


https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/moxie/

Advertisements

17 thoughts on “Confession of a Poet

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s