Caren Krutsinger Poet Rhyme

I Marvel At the Stealth of My Ideas

Jumbled up in the bowls of my brain
Are poetry words that do not rhyme
They take my imagination hostage
But do not let me take my time.

They are creeping out of my dendrite path
Landing fiercely on a virginal page
The white is rapidly filling up with words
From my muse, not the sage.

I can see some landing like paratroopers
And I mavel at their stealth
They are flying from my gray matter
Bringing me emotional health

For when I am in writing world
Which I do for my own sake
It is as if I am gifting myself
A reality-driven break.

Rolling out like thunder now
Words slide upon the paper
Where are they coming from I ask?
But the only thing I see is vapor.

My muse is slick sassy and smart

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Shirley Hawkins March 15, 2020 at 1:40 AM They are flying from my gray matter bringing me emotional health Whoosh! I loved this poem. I find writing poetry very therapeutic especially when it flows easily. Thank you for sharing this great poem... Caren Krutsinger March 15, 2020 at 6:18 AM It is my therapy, and I am a licensed therapist so I should know what I am talking about. Painting and Poetry sooth me.

Gershon Wolf March 11, 2020 at 8:10 PM What a bombardment of imagery here. Especially like 'the virginal page' and 'landing like paratroopers.' Pure enjoyment reading this one. Thanks, Caren! :) gw Caren Krutsinger March 12, 2020 at 5:25 AM Thank you. This one was pure Trixie; I held on to the pen for the ride.