Monday, July 9, 2012

The Poet's Pen




The poet’s pen
Is filled with blood
And stars
And flowers and tears
It spills
According to the mood
Of Muse
Or tilted spheres

The poet’s pen
Is like a knife
Or scalpel
Ruthless; keen
It slices through the outer flesh
To hearts
And scars
And dreams

The poet’s pen
Can be a curse
Or a divine-breathed quill
It shapes dull letters
Into sobs,
And aches
And chills
And thrills

The poet’s pen
Is filled with lust
For all unwritten things
It tears man’s longing
From the dust
It wails
It sighs
It sings

The poet’s pen
Is filled with blood
The tears of heart and soul
And oh, the passion
Of its flood
When it
Loses
Control

© Janet Martin

4 comments:

  1. This could only be written by a true poet. Wonderful, Janet. That photo is amazing.

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  2. Janet, what a gift. This speaks volumes and is wonderfully expressed. I would love to share this one, too. x

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  3. Glynis,thank-you:)Certainly you may share it!

    TUG and Sara. I appreciate your continued support and words. Thank-you so very kindly.

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Thank you always for your visit and your thoughts.