Greg Gaul Poet Free verse

Bollix Them Up

The words.
They fell out on paper.
They were in my head.
Not sure what they said.
I stare...
at them in ink.
Then think.
Indigo seeping
into paper fibers.

It was me...
who wrote them down.
But were they mine?
Did I bollix them up?
Did they land standing up?
In the proper order?
And now.
This is how.
It ends up.

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Line Gauthier February 11, 2019 at 11:00 PM Congrats, Greg. Well penned. Congrats on your fine win. Greg Gaul February 12, 2019 at 7:39 AM Thanks very much Line. I see your many fine placements as well. Many fine verses. Many insightful thoughts captured in well penned poetry.

Andrew Fairchild February 1, 2019 at 3:42 AM Bravo! Happens like that! How many times have we 'crossed the street in traffic', dreaming, only to find ourselves alive on the other side, and not know how we got there. Greg Gaul February 1, 2019 at 5:31 AM Awareness Andrew, it's a challenge for us all, even poets. Thanks for your insightfull comment.

Caren Krutsinger January 29, 2019 at 3:01 PM I sometimes have these moments and I think "I did not write this. Who did? Then I venture onto a phrase I recognize and I say 'oh, well, yes, it might have been me after all.'" Greg Gaul January 29, 2019 at 6:37 PM No worries, it's a common concern among poets. You're the third one to make this same observation already and I just posted this one on two of my sites. Anywho, thanks so much for noticing and commenting. Most kind of you.