Three Word Wednesday
How can I stop these nasty cravings?
My gluttonous hunger never ceasing I am
Always lusting after what I cannot possess
The illusive goal of literary excellence
All art being subjective, I am
Perpetually straddling the border
Between the brilliant and the grotesque
(Heaven forbid I should be mediocre)
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Fragile is the poet’s heart
Cannibalistic in the consumption
Of itself. An exorcism, this writing
A book of demons my journal,
I’ve got a spirit designed for
Suffering, a mind that rests
Squarely in the eye of the storm
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Occult truths are divined in the bones
The universe has supplied us
Liberally with answers we simply
Haven’t the facility or the courage
To ask the right questions
(Creators simply invent their own)
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Writers are masters at hide and seek,
They conceal in plain sight, symbolism being
The ultimate subterfuge they might be a tree, a bird,
Or even the song that sustains, they’ve an arsenal
Of mask and identities, every word uttered a
Variation of self, they are given
To confession, the heat of their interrogative mind
Would boil them alive if they remained silent
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(I did manage to write before the concert after all =))
mindlovemisery 