Why do you write so? What inspires you to do so?
Which portions of your life befriend you to do so?
What makes you pick that pen up and scrawl those words?
Matters that pour nuisances of you heart and more so of your mind on the parchment.. why do you write?
I write out of sheer boredom engulfing my shelf life here.. Or do I?
The agony of a mind fanning its own thoughts..
I write to forge a bond with myself..
I write to loosen the knot in my bare hands..
The knot between bare hands? Yes.. the fidgety fingers fumbling..
Pondering what has become of the self I knew yesterday?
I write wondering shall I ever be that prolific dispeller of words… who writes with ignatious ..an unabashed flair…
From whose beacon of riveting knowledge shall I glean that uninhibited figurative tongue?
Fuse words of boisterous beauty.. Purging impudent purity … honest in in its picturesque candor..
A language of man… nature .. laden with no pompous substance but only the essence of poetry..
Poetry that peels the layers, draws the vulnerability in the eyes of man..
Shall I ever touch the hearts and minds lighter in joy.. foster the soft naive rush of unhinged emotions..
Fill their smiles with a knowing that these clumsy words indeed spell the unknown clusters in there hearts..
Shall I ever revive the light in the eyes of those men.. Lasses and humble beings in pain..
They who know not how to touch their own wounds.. barren for words..
Why does thee perspire to rise with the sun and ride to the time..
What in thy soul has life of its own? And what shines the light in the darkest corners..
Kneads into shape your empire of dust time and again.. kindles the fire wood in cottage..
Like the shepherd thee rises with dawn.. Hoping to find what thee looks for..
Stare at the mountains.. clamber the hills.. search for the lion with the humbling mane.. horrific yet dangerously prideful and beautiful..
Search for the maiden who calls thy name.. search for yourself in the galore of beings one sees..
Oh..Why do you write so? Why do you perspire so?
What it is that leave’s your touch as the sun breaks sleep..
What is it that saunters in your eyes in the day.. haunts your heart by dusk..
Do you search for the man.. as I do..
Weave words like needles were carving scriptures from your mind onto this plain parchment for epiphany..for sake of epiphany
Do you search for those words as I do.. words that bind you to you..