Qui Bee Poet I do not know?

For My Sake of Writing

It would not have mattered if those words made any sense,
Nor how I looked like a nervous fellow
Speaking those words aloud, writing them down
As long as those disturbing thoughts
Freed from me, escaped me, gone
So soon forgotten.

When I write poems
Or if they are poems at all,
They're for my enjoyment
Really.

Critique all you want,
They're oblivious to the eyes
Like an evening streetwalker's silhouette
Soon forgotten.

Sometimes words aren't meant to be touched
But to simply exist
To ease the pain
The writer's woe
Equal to the vomit draft
Of an angry letter
Never to be sent.

It's a mess
Really.

In writing this, This thing!
What is this, What is This?
Nevertheless it is here through the touches of the keyboard
Words that don't really make any sense
But are there
Making me more of a nervous fellow
So soon forgotten
Really.

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Carol Sunshine Brown April 1, 2011 at 5:04 AM Another week has come and gone and I haven't been able to read as much this week as I had wanted. I am glad I was able to read your poetry today Qui. Keep your pen scrolling don't let the ink dry up. I hope you have a wonderful weekend of sunshine and joy and find lots of inspiration along the way. Love, Carol

Cherie Durbin March 31, 2011 at 1:05 PM As long as a poem makes sense to you, Qui Bee, that's all that matters! I write some poems-like my children's poems-with an audience in mind. Others I write for myself! The poems I write for myself are the poems that I enjoy best.

Dr.Ram Mehta March 31, 2011 at 1:03 PM very unusual theme you have chosen for the vrses, very introspective, Qui

Carolyn Devonshire March 31, 2011 at 12:24 PM It really doesn't matter if others find deep meaning in your words or not, we write because it releases something in side of us. It's a catharsis. Some folks take their poetry too seriously, but I'm here for the fun of it too, Qui, and I enjoyed the observations you made in this poem. Best wishes, Carolyn