How to Hold on to Inspiration

I’m putting these words on the page.

And they’re staying here

As they come out, whether they like it

Or not.

Let’s talk poetry.

Let’s use silence.

Because to do this,

We don’t need words,

We breathe poetry, suck it from the air,

Lap it from a bowl like milk

With pink cat tongues

And I can see those feline eyes in you, Tiger.

Use your tongue

To write these words,

Carve them into the solid wind

And paint them on the face

Of a delicate distant star.

Sing the words

With the movements of your body,

Let the ripples of smooth muscle beneath your skin

Hiss the phrases

In adrenaline

Through your veins.

Let the blades of grass

Pressed down by your agile footsteps

Tell the story of your journey

As they weave birdsong into that almost silent poetry

Which pinnacles

As you

Mount the top of the hill.

Kiss verse to my lips,

Stroke similes from my flesh

And pluck the words to fatten them

From the trees ripe with autumn harvest.

I just want you to see

How easy it is

To find these rhymes in the bright round world

And mark them in your head

To save them for later

To put them on paper

Because I know they like to hide from you

When it comes time to write them down.

To save this day,

And feel this rhythm

And pour it onto the page, just


The End

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