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/

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27 Comments Add yours

  1. “I’ll write dryness of mouth
    not the taste of lips.” Powerful! Great piece.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Sangbad says:

      Thank you…keep visiting…hope you will like my writing like this one…

      Liked by 1 person

  2. poetrybyliviniarendall says:

    This is really hood

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Sangbad says:

      I think it was a typo…thanks for stopping by & reading & commenting…keep visiting…

      Liked by 1 person

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