Raul Moreno Poet Quatrain

Poetic Soldier

Battling the page,
Writers block at the brink.
Assassinated words,
Hemorrhage colored ink.

Rivers of ink flow,
From a massacre of words.
Stanzas of pain, grace the page,
Like of flock of olden birds.

Ballpoint swords strike:
In written catastrophe.
A stained battlefield resides,
With bloody poetry.

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Timothy Hicks March 9, 2013 at 1:36 PM It's not always butterflies and rainbows for the poet... sometimes it's a hair-pulling nightmare. I like your descriptions of thoughts and words battling it out in a bloody free for all. Imagination is a writers greatest weapon.

Doris Culverhouse September 6, 2012 at 8:20 AM deep intense write....i miss seeing you around Raul....hope yo are well. I just had surgery myself and am in the mend (I hope)

Poet Destroyer A March 13, 2012 at 8:01 PM Raul, I like the way you used the word brink' in your poem... a fight within a fight... the harsh reason, one needs to let it all out... great poem, thank you for your wonderful poem. Have yourself a good night ;-) *always~pd

Pace Ink-U-Script March 13, 2012 at 7:20 AM Yikes!!! That was deep.