The Humbled Poet

Sometimes I think it is easier to see in the dark

When inward eyes seek after the spark

Down in the shadowy well of the mind

Where epiphanies and skeletons you’re sure to find

 

I lay down to bed with night in my eyes

Delving deeply, to where the poetry lies

Rocking to the rhythm of starlit ink

Without fear my heart leaps from the brink

 

A pen now in hand with morning’s cockle crow

Discovering that only plants will in sunlight grow

For my pages revert back to mute blue lines

The knowing still caged in a restless mind

 

Where are the words that will stroke your soul

Those nightly visitors with their tidal pull?

Dreams are wayward on the page

Lady Muse is sulking in her gilded cage

 

I brood into my coffee cup, a murky brown

Unable to write this Knowing down

No rhyme or reason to the masquerade

My ace in the hole was long ago played

 

So I hum a classic rock tune and write of my lack

With armies of the unwritten at my back

The sun creeps slowly on toward noon

The dogs of war will be howling soon

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11 thoughts on “The Humbled Poet

  1. Oh my gosh Kelley, this is great! The words, the emotion and the cadence I felt every bit of it as I read. Your words are truth for everyone, but especially writers! At least for me my best often seems to come out of the dark! Thank you for sharing!

    Like

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