Wordless I sit
I’ve lost all rhyme and rhythm,
Words I can grasp slip thru
My fingers
to fall around my feet
In jumbled order,
I want to climb
The popular ladder
Blank sheets are all I can offer.
Will the words rise off the floor
Can any expealladotious word
knock on the door?
That’s left ajar for metaphors
That may sneak in.
Nature speaks in its
Own bounty full way,
All the clock can say
Is tick tock
To seal my mental block,
Wait I think its coming back
The end of my block, yes yes,
Hickory Dickery Dock!
I have that feeling sometimes. Nice poetic formation there. Kip writing.
Original crisis of word-artist. Can any expealladotious word / knock on the door? Beautiful expectation and mysterious too. So many lines are here so touchy! Good poem. Regards, pranab 10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Like your work.... nice