Thought On the Write
Thought on the write
A Shower of salt,
in eyes you read?
To what seethes,
this creep.
For my Joyouse ooze,
of free verse.
A picking of placing,
the coolist stamp,
when my visions
Are danced in ink.
Spindle, full knitting,
crisscrossing the stitch.
Work chalkboard lessons,
of wisdom dismissed.
Then rhyme ends.
That most, if not all,
Take it for cable.
Granted.
You are it's god,
it's devil, and ribbon.
All in perception.
Copyright © Johnathon Souders | Year Posted 2009
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