Ingrained Process

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic


If I hold this pencil long enough, eventually the words will come…like an old friend at the station, searching for a welcome home...

Submitted: October 09, 2017

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Submitted: October 09, 2017

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If I hold this pencil long enough, eventually the words will come…like an old friend at the station, searching for a welcome home

It won’t take me doing much, just waiting with an open mind, for whatever decides to visit long enough to be laid down

 

Patience is the proverb that guides me in this practice, in this method, some call madness, of the deciphering of the world

 

Too much complication, intimidation, implication fills the ears; and all the while drowns out the words howling, whispering, pleas unheard

 

I need the silence, I need division; I need separation of reasons to be

I need permission to find a vision above the prisons of border lines

 

To swim on the current of free flowing dreams, I need a revival of all childlike things

 

Imagination, the blood of creation; disintegration of calculation

 

If I hold this pencil long enough, eventually the letters will start to run

 

The letters will start to form a path, within the dirt, beneath the sun


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