Lonely Pen

Hope you like it

I write inner life, that is how I find my depth

Persistence in my exploration, my endeavor to test

My desires to further wonder, to ponder and reflect

To unwind me emotionaly, a preverbial conscious wrench

 

 

I rhyme because, sometimes my mind distorts my angle of thought

Direction crashed, matter perplexed, hanging in a spiderweb, tangled and caught.

Letting the narration flow, depth is stilled when it has to be forced, work your heart until you can aford to relax

On, on and often, time and line again, finding the ends to whies, finding the time to confess

Hoping to get to where I know my heart is home

Home once again, alone in the unknown, deflecting fear again, when showing no defense

A Sown idea, breathe again. Fused holy by certain muses, they show flowing through my lonely pen.

Rainy days flooding my ark, drowning me in my human weaknesses

Time spent steering into an awkward and shallow reflection in my acceptance

 

Through an beyond forking roads in the devils dance

Advance to return, returning learned with new chance

New paths, new growth, clean fruit, same heart

Father ask of me. Father we have come far.

Reviews

[Water_the_Sun]

I love the, i guess coloquialisms you sneak in now and then, like "steering" should be "staring" but you write it with an accent and i LOVE that about you:) it adds so much to the feeling of the poem:)

You do an amazing job of allowing the reader to feel the meaning behind your words, there are things hidden between the lines, as always, but, overall, the general public can feel the jist of it, and a few special few can see what lies beneath as well.

You are a wonderful poet, Matthew, the best ive read in a while,

Welcome home... (hug)

[BABSIE BEE]

This is great. It seems effortless for you to put this together. Will read some more of your work for sure. Thanks


Babsie Bee xx

[mick weller]

'Time spent steering into an awkward and shallow reflection in my acceptance' ...
welcome aboard!

[Emily B]

My words don't come in metered, rhyming forms. They come like the rain, sudden and unexpected, falling straight down. Your words will come the way they want to . . . may be there will be moments when your pen doesn't feel so lonely. Welcome to the cafe.