Pen of fire

She took my poetry to heart

the weeping

non rhyming

caustic

words of my being

and began questioning

the significance of our relationship

I told her that they

are just words

that they mean nothing

or that they are in no way

related to our lives

Honey...I said

am I an old man

that pisses himself

while feeding the birds

have we ever had an argument cliffside

or have you or I ever left one another

alone on the sheets

with sex dripping from our groins

She just stared at me

those blue eyes penetrating

the interior that I now was questioning

I know deep down

that the emotions I write

come from the emotions that she gives

butI can not explain myself

my motives are true

my writing is true

but only in context

I told her

that I will write to her

for her

by the fireplace

with embers burning

wine in hand

with a pen of fire

 

Reviews

[MrJodie]

Oh, how I know this feeling. Why do those close to us always believe that every word is ABOUT them? They inspire us, fire our pens, but it's hard to make them understand the complexities with which we form the lines. Some of my own poems have been about my own and some, though they're words I've said to her, they're just words that have meaning but don't mean much.

I love this. Love it! The emotion just drips off of it. Your stuff is brilliant, man. I can't find a single fault here.

Excellent work.