I am a complicated thing
I am metaphor and simile
I am strings of carefully chosen adjectives
I am freeform and feelings
I am lyrical pauses and dramatic imagery
I am deep truth and sharp honesty
I am unapologetic wit
I am rage and grace
I am vulnerability spot lit
I am raw and unpolished
I am real
I am a writer
I am a poem
-gws
I used to write for you Now I only write about you You do not have the patience Or maybe the capacity for poetry -gws
The artist moon is calling The one that makes the blood restless And the mind discontent The one that replaces sleep With lightning storms of inspiration The moon raises the spirit of dreams unrealized And fantasies unlived It whispers of wild woods and scented winds Of primal needs and elaborate, lucid dreams I am held captive in the moon's tides Ebbing and flowing as I map my own constellations in its sky And so my mind churns My pen moves Channeling the lightning into art Painting the moon's energy with barely adequate words In a desperate attempt to contain the results of its demanding influence -gws
I am invited by these blank pages
to bear into the light
the secrets of my soul
my night visions and wild imaginings
fantastical whimsies
and deepest truths
born onto these waiting lines
magic erupting from my soul’s well
each babbling bubble brimming
with something eager to be fixed to paper
transfigured from infinite potential
into eternalized reality
a golem of ink and words
let loose to walk unknown paths along others’ souls
leaving quiet footsteps which will fade
like water on concrete after a rain
my eyes follow the pen strokes
they are rhythmic like the rising
and falling of meditative breath made manifest
casting a spell of freedom and release
-gws
Poetry is my word therapy
It is where I take the overwhelming abstractness of my emotions
And mold it into something comprehensible
Taking the feelings inside
And creating a scaffolding made of words on which to hang
Stanzas containing descriptions, analogies, and written visualizations
I am able to take what is chaotic and undefined
And give it structure and meaning
Like a potter transforms a formless lump of clay
Into a beautiful piece of finished pottery
A manipulation born of skill, practice, and talent
Which creates a piece that describes, conveys, and evokes
The essence of the soul on fire
-gws
I spill ink in controlled rivulets across an unstained page, setting down with curves and flourishes the tangled, unintelligible, intangible emotional illiteracies of my mind now transmuted into words and phrases, provoked into life, and now chained irrevocably into place by pen, hand, and mind.
-gws
Words Wishes and Wisdom 