deepundergroundpoetry.com

Frozen Hand...

The night is dark, I sit,
pen in hand, ready.
Nothing comes, my hand
frozen in place.
My mind locked on trivia.
Where are the inspirations,
where are the concepts,
where are those meaningful
dreams that might move one heart?
Then a voice in my soul says
poetry is not mechanical, not
like writing a book.
Because you are ready
I may not be.
Poetry is a journey, a pilgrimage
an exodus. All are invited
but few will listen. Soul to soul,
essence to the very center.
That’s poetry... words began
to flow from my pen, from a place
unknown. The words shine
and light the page. The dawn
has come, the journeys done.
Written by anvinvil (Anvillan)
Published
Author's Note
Inspiration is key
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 3 reading list entries 1
comments 5 reads 297
Commenting Preference: 
The author encourages honest critique.

Latest Forum Discussions
SPEAKEASY
Today 2:36am by Billy_Snagg
SPEAKEASY
Today 1:28am by brokentitanium
COMPETITIONS
Today 00:46am by Louismatteo349
COMPETITIONS
Today 00:41am by Louismatteo349
SPEAKEASY
Yesterday 11:19pm by Ahavati
POETRY
Yesterday 11:05pm by Grace