Email Poem

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Poem

Blank pages stare back at me 
waiting for my mind to pour 
its' heart out. 

I grab my pen, throw on my 
headphones wait, wait for my 
mind to give my heart words 
that need to be written. 

I make my mark, withdraw my hand, I stare. 

This is all you see _____ 

Months have passed since words have 
been written, my mind is hesitant 
to reveal what my heart tries to 
conceal. 

Music plays in my ears in hopes 
of encouraging my mind to find 
its hidden words. 

I stop, quote Jonson in my head 
an English dramatist & poet... 
"Suns, that set, may rise again 
But if once we lose this light, 
'Tis with us perpetual night. (Volpone) 

Yet my mind still remains empty. 
Perspiration runs down my face, 
my temperature rises, frustration 
runs through my veins. 

I try yet again 

I quote Apollinaire in my head 
a French poet... 
"Les souvenirs sont cors de chasse 
Dont meunt le bruit parmi le vent" 

My anger grows 
My mind weary 
My eyes tire. 

As night falls, & its all over 
my pages still remain empty

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