What's with this nudging-
this perpetual nudging
from deep within,
urging me to write a poem?
A poem of feelings,
of rhythm and imagery.
And I am willing-
Grasping for words,
phrases, perhaps
something in iambic pentameter.
But I am so spaced out.
I swivel my eyes-
back to front,
peering into the folds of my
spaced-out mind.
My impenetrable gaze
sifts through gray matter,
where arteries pulse
with bright scarlet oxygenated blood,
where veins run deep purple,
flushed, delicate pink.
It is quite extraordinary.
I could write of colors,
I could paint with words-
but there is nothing there.
No angst in me,
nothing provoking,
nothing bothersome,
boiling, nor bubbling.
Just the nudging,
this perpetual nudging.
Categories:
nudging, creation, desire, emotions, encouraging,
Form: Free verse
Those still, small nudging voices inside me
Tell me when I have betrayed a trusted bond.
Bells tinkle in my head, alarming, not carefree,
Those still, small nudging voices inside me
My inner compass in striped shirt--my referee
Makes me uncomfortable; of it I am not fond.
Those still, small nudging voices inside me
Tell me when I have betrayed a trusted bond.
written May 30, 2021
Categories:
nudging, conflict, how i feel,
Form: Triolet
What's with this nudging
This perpetual nudging
Coming from deep within
Urging me to write a poem
A poem of feelings
Rhythm and imagery-
And believe me
I'm happy, willing and able
Grasping for words, perhaps
Phrases with iambic pentameter
But I'm so spaced out
There's nothing there.
Wholly concerned
I swivel my eyes
Back to front, dramatically
Looking within my
Spaced out mind-
Scrutinizing eyes
Probing the many folds
Of gray matter and
Arteries with scarlet
Oxygenated blood
The veins deep purple
Flushed delicate pink
It's quite extraordinary really
This internal intangible world
There's no particular block
Of sorts, no glitches
In the brain wiring
No dead words, no requiem
In progress
I should be able to
Write captivating stanzas
With colorful, heartfelt words
But there's nothing stirring
No angst residing in me
Nothing bothersome
Nothing boiling and bubbling
Nothing provoking me externally.
So what's with this nudging
This perpetual nudging
To sit down and write a poem
Could this one be the one
Nudging?
© 2015 Denise Morgan?
Categories:
nudging, introspection, poems, write,
Form: Prose
Behind a cloud
A fleeting shimmer pushes through
Behind a cloud
The gentlest whisper shouts aloud
As clouds part; a change in the view
A nudging reminder of you
Behind a cloud.
Categories:
nudging, love,
Form: Rhyme
It has always been there,
That gentle nudging,
You, at my heart’s door.
It’s been so long,
Since I’ve let you in.
You have always been the wind,
Blowing through my dreams.
I can feel your breath across my face,
And I’m lost...
In the wind,
Again.
Categories:
nudging, imagination, inspirational, nature,
Form: I do not know?