words drop
ink blots, dripping from my pen
where spills end and sense begins
I cannot comprehend
maybe it is all spills, all drizzle
dribble
dripping, spotting, trickling, flowing on the page
and meaning nothing
perhaps its as far as black on white
and no further
just an inky mess like an oil spill
that takes not gives, dries up the pen and leaves the poet empty.
words drop
ink blots, dripping from my pen
where spills end and sense begins
I cannot comprehend
Author notes
Haven't submitted any poems for a really long time, but this came to mind so I figured, why not
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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It's absolutely wonderful, meine Liebe!
I'm especially in love with that third stanza. I -really- love your work, there's nothing silly about it! (-yes, unless you make it silly.)
-also, I love the way that you did the second stanza. "maybe it is all spills/dribble/dripping, spotting, trickling, flowing on the page/meaning nothing". Something about the first part just makes me smile, the description and imagery of it, and then the hammer hitting the nail in the last line and making it something less silly. Almost like a small little emotional rollercoaster, as I often imagine writers' block to be like, you know?
In all, it was really good and I'm glad to see you writing a poem! Get back into it, love, you're awesomesauce!
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