self portrait

self

what literature you bequeath the canvas,

with every stroke of thine wand,

those strokes of rhyme and wonder,

poetic seeds that you planted on paper,

soaring and flowering,

that hyperbole of thy condition within,

the hitherto incomprehensible,

now forever indelible,

a reflection of the soul,

cathartic displays of hue,

coercing the eye’s sudden saliva,

released,

the careful layering of metre,

ever so slowly,

ever so carefully,

until the lyric’s end.

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One thought on “self portrait

be sure to purge (thoughts,ideas,complaints) if at all you feel the nudge

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