My mind, perished plate,
waits patiently for my
wild winds of ingenuity,
which will not waft -
until tomorrow-
pregnant solitude of wait...
exciting music
swelling in my heart,
blessed to be born with
ecstasies of explosive expression.
Author notes
persistence...keep trying and trying and trying...it will come..
A contest entry
- Perfect 10! (Part 2) by second-born.
1000 points, ended August 17, 2007, 7 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
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ah yeah, if something is not coming right away, take five and have a cuppa lol inspiration shall arrive, though i am thinking a baby being born here
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thank you
No baby...sorry...the birth to which I refer is the birth of the poetry within me, waiting to be born; but I must wait to reach a final climax of emotion in my words.
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second-born
Thank you for the Gold. I feel truly happy that you have enjoyed my poem and I appreciate all the work you have done in this competition. -
This is what I feel when I’m just staring at a blank paper or scribbling any words at my notebook…and yes indeed even if I did not write anything with sense or any words at all…I have this ultimate sensation that later on…on this “pregnant solitude of wait...” I would have my “ecstasies of explosive expression…” I truly enjoyed your poem…
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second-born
Thank you for the compliment. I know the feeling...frustration plus.
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Wow! Such alliteration in the first stanza! Outstanding poem and good luck in the contest!
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