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The Flood

THE FLOOD

			Sun pours through the window,
			a shower of light to strike
			the sheer white pages of my mind,
			a stark reminder of emptiness
			mocking me like the faces on the wall.
			I think of Zora and Atlantis, (how does
			history know if any of us ever existed?)
			the sinking feeling of wordlessness
			drowning me. Nassau braces for a hurricane
			while I wait for the flood to reach
			my pen and the verbal onslaught
			that will leave paper bloodied and bruised
			with the wounded thoughts
			of a penny-less wordsmith.

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Oliver Muchuma

Date: 11/27/2016 5:57:00 AM

AWESOME

John Hamilton

Date: 7/16/2016 12:18:00 PM

this is great Phil, I think every poet feels the same way, we go through a drought, and then the flood happens. I thought this was a biblical write by the title, so you grabbed my attention with this one, well worth the read anyway! A7

Joe Dimino

Date: 6/7/2016 8:06:00 AM

For sure; we are truly only alive when creating. But then...it is often only for one. Great read!

Winged Warrior

Date: 6/4/2016 8:31:00 AM

Well done my friend...hopefully we can change the penny-less wordsmith lol...god bless...^WW^