Poetaholic

Well then Silent One You therefore must obviously metaphorically be Constantly drunk on words Speaking only for myself as I have only been on the poetry soup site for going on 10 plus years. I think you were not only here from my beginning but probably long before I even was Ever present constant prolific consistent But most importantly of all TERRIFIC from the very beginning Up until this very Day Credit where Credit is Due

Well, I've had my suspicions, S O.

No doubt you are a poetaholic, so inebriated with poetry. For you, when poetry comes as an irresistable urge, for me, most of the time, it is forced out... the essential difference between a poet inborn and a poet made. I see "ink flying like fledglings' from your pen, 'leaving an empty nest'behind.Let your fledglings conquer the sky to its farthest perimeters . Beautiful !

Nice one. A lot of truth to it!

Silent One, Love the metaphors in this rich write.

"When you can take the pebble from my hand"

Your writing is a goldmine of thought and reflection dear friend. The quality of your writing has never wavered; you are a gifted poet. The final two lines are quite beautiful, and they made a lasting impression on me. You elegantly disguise some of your feelings under gloomy metaphors, I assume so they won't be misunderstood. Even better, I'm thrilled to have learned a new term, "poetaholic," thanks to your creativity.

Ah, the metaphor of metaphor staggering blindly across the snow driven page

Some words are not for everyone's eyes, so I hide them behind sober metaphors---words to ponder and reflect on. Splendid write, as always, my friend.

lovely poem shared; great to read

Me too a poetaholic, but the difference is my metaphors are not sober, they are drunk and hazy too. Just like my mind at times! Your mini poem is beautiful and i think many can resonate with this. And some poems like mine are not for everyones eyes, they lay within, and even if seen cannot be comprehended by every eye, as i hide behind them too afraid my comfort zone would be found! I love how you’ve written “ until my ink flies like the mind's fledglings” hits home and strong! Every word you