Prolific poet pen
Mind exploding
Needs unloading
Again again again
There and then is how
For if not
Will be forgot
They live in the now
Cares not what the hour
3am
I need that pen
By morning will turn sour
Like conceiving new
Embryo made
Idea laid
Pen made sure it grew.
Paper not a must
Back of hand
Will do grand
On my skin I trust.
I have had many an idea, not being able to jot it down, a word, sentence and then forgot it...good poem.
This would have been me, before my iPhone notes app. I would definatwly have written on my skin not to lose an idea. Now I just have to worry about waking my dear husband up with the light from the screen
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Isn't it funny where it has to pour out of you and be decanted before you can sleep properly: -)