Tuesday Mornings and I'm in Love. (Poetry) - 3

kryslee Tue Sep 23, 2008 8:20 pm

Funny, in a non-comical way,
but I always find comfort in...
this.
The dark ink flowing from the pen
staining my pages with scratches
that some how have meaning.
Like Magic.
A few simple twitches of my fingers-
thumb, pointer, middle, and ring to be exact.
An elegant gliding of the
bottom right side of my palm and wrist
back and forth against the paper...
(sometimes it's the only thing I understand)
and suddenly there are words!
Delicate combinations of symbols
and thousands of possibilities.

To write one thing...
. . . and mean another,
leaving all translations
up to the reader.

I
Love
You.

What can you make of that?

Olias Tue Sep 23, 2008 10:24 pm

I can make the universe out of it. The three words that transcend time and space, and that pierce like an arrow into the freshest of hearts.

I wonder where those words come from too. They just appear. I wish my missing socks would appear. SOCKS! RETURN TO ME!

Poetry is an asexual organism. It constantly divides and grows. Thus, the answer to the mystery.

Great work, krys. This is one of those simple pleasures. If this was ES, I'd favourite it.

kryslee Wed Sep 24, 2008 2:57 am

I vowed to only wear socks when it's too cold to wear sandals. I hate when my socks are MIA.
Thank you..it was very simple...but I enjoyed writing it.

Olias Thu Sep 25, 2008 1:36 am

No problem. I really enjoyed reading it. In fact, it feels rather like a Mary Oliver poem. She's one of my favourite poets. She takes some of the most simple things (nature, daily routines, etc.) and infuses them with an almost magical quality. She fills them with gold.

As do you.