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A Writer’s Release

photo credit: en.wikipedia.org

photo credit: en.wikipedia.org

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

thoughts drifting away
like white clouds gliding
as the breath of wind gently blows
pushing them onwards
scattering into the ephemeral embrace
of the vast nothingness

yet consciousness forms
amidst the floating images
caressing tendrils of memories
like fragile shards of glass
blood dripping from shallow cuts
as fingers try to put the pieces
back together to form a thought

and so the words begin to flow
slowly at first then gushing from pen
like a broken dam unrelenting
spreading on whitened sheets
a wildfire of words mingling
with tears and sweat

the pages will turn once more
lines will be filled with forgotten words
stitched together by images
flashing behind eyes that stare
at swaying trees and dancing leaves
as the barrier between thought and pen
ceases to exist…

-©The Elusive Scribe 050214-

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Unwanted Pain

weaving words with pen on blank pieces of paper,
corrupting virgin surface with tears of ink,
the words come like flowing river,
filling up the page with the darkest of images
that can only come from a mind bereft of the light.
no hope filters through the shadows of despair
that wrapped their fingers on her grieving soul,
clenching them into fists to bleed her heart
of the hurts that she bore in silence alone.

what wicked fate brought her this unwanted pain,
when all she ever wanted was a piece of heaven
she thought she could find in her lover’s arms.
but she is played like a guitar with broken strings,
and she danced to the tune of his falsities
until her feet start to bleed on shards of shattered glass
of her dreams he broke with all of his forgotten promises.

she is weeping deep inside though her smile never falters,
and you can see in her eyes that she is slowly dying,
and with every word she spilled on the pages of her book,
she is transferring a little bit of her self,
hoping that she could save the innocent that was once her
and let it live the life she could not have on dreams
conjured by a fragment of hope that clings to her deep within.

-The Elusive Scribe 102213-

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On Writing Stories

 

Letters standing side by side,
spaces in between words,
words that bring to life,
discarded thoughts
of a daydreamer.

Worlds come apart yet made whole,
with paragraphs slowly filling,
empty sheets of paper,
with a pen that bleeds,
dark ink from its lips.

Folklores and forgotten tales,
magic and mysteries do tell.
For there are eyes and hands waiting,
to read the lines and turn the pages,
to get lost in the world you’ve created.

-The Elusive Scribe 041013-

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Enter the Night

This one I wrote in the dead of the night. I don’t know what possessed me (maybe, the little ink elf) to write this. I just stirred from my reverie then started pounding on the keyboards to type this poem. 🙂

 

Enter the Night

The night fast approaches

I sit back and watch as darkness encroaches

over streetlamps and traveling coaches

enveloping sweethearts exchanging smooches.

The night fast approaches

I could see my pen leaving blotches

on paper white and grainy notches

leaving hands with black stained patches.

The night fast approaches

I could finally see the moon that bewitches

lovers arm in arm sitting on benches

unaware of the night that fast approaches.

-EAM120412-