This post was inspired by my friend’s piece. Woodsy The Performance Poet. John is a great writer. l always enjoy bouncing poetry back and forth with him. He inspires so many. Check him out ! ð https://wp.me/pbvYy3-pH
I have words that bounce along the ripples of lakes like stones skipping across a page.
These words are fleeting bits of voices mixed and thrashed about my eardrums.
Like the gulls fly near the shore, I get lost in these words.
Their echoes shimmy and bop their elongated heads across my pen, slithering down like a sly worm or sarcastic snake.
They know their power. They know they’re provoking in their fear instilling little lithe bodies. I cannot withold them from revealing themselves.
They so often come out without my permission.
I’ve learned to meet them halfway, conceding with them.
They are not villains.
They are bits of spats between the human race. They are imaginative beings and immediate thoughts gone before I can quite grasp them.
They are pieces of all of us and how we treat each other.




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