words
burning up the pages
with their various
ink filled grace
giving subtlety to the cause
of writing itself
an incomplete picture frame
of slippery artistic climb
the property of wish
itself possesses a dash of power
confusion takes a bath
neatly afterward
upon the back of a truly innocent sleep
one that can sneakily thieve a place for
itself
with no real reoccurring guilt whatsoever
what paradise
for all those jagged upsetting thoughts
and the varnish of vague analysis
if applied properly
covers every last nick in the gouged
human psyche
indescribable bliss
to the focused poet
at work
this is what poetry can conquer and
achieve
for even the most weakened
view of reality
full circle the present
staring at the future
that looks fondly
back on the past..........
(written July 22, 2001 10pm)