Writing Poem by Justin Reamer

A blank page, ripe for the picking,
Beckons the pencil over to make contact,
To become intimate as they commence
The intimate interaction as individuals
In sync with the rhythm of life's spirit.

Up-slash, down-slash, downward swipe,
Up-swipe, down-swipe, double slash,
Slitting the throat of an individual t,
Pounding the eye of an i with a fist,
The pencil and paper become one,

A combined stream of consciousness
Transferred to the blank page,
Each letter forming individual shapes,
Converging to make whimsical words,
To ultimately form sanguine sentences.

Chastisement and admonition ensue as
The pencil and paper conjoined
Together in their telepathic link,
Change words and revise sentences,
Adjusting structure and syntax

To meet the nuances and connotations of
Individual words and phrases until
The writer's intended message,
Painstakingly fine-tuned and
Worked exhaustively to the bone,
Finally connects with the reader.