Go, Poem, Go
A poem on the go…
Does it know where it is supposed to go?
…
It must do so for it is no go relying on my guidance.
…
Just go for it, poem, whatever you are up to.
I Hope the pen doesn’t run out of ink soon.
Run, pen, run.
I hope I don’t run out of gas.
Run, poet, run.
You know, this pen lives a life of its own.
Yet it bleeds to death if need be.
In turn, the paper accept what is.
That is ever requited love, that love of craft.
The love of self (the poet), the muse might very well reject.
Discover more from Reveries That I Call Poetry
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
Pages: Page 1, Page 2, Page 3, Page 4, Page 5, Page 6, Page 7, Page 8, Page 9, Page 10, Page 11, Page 12, Page 13, Page 14, Page 15, Page 16, Page 17, Page 18, Page 19, Page 20, Page 21, Page 22, Page 23, Page 24, Page 25, Page 26, Page 27, Page 28, Page 29, Page 30, Page 31, Page 32, Page 33, Page 34, Page 35, Page 36, Page 37, Page 38
Reveries That I Call Poetry 
One thought on “Anthology Reveries that I call Poetry | by T!el Fajardo”