I want to write


I am a swordsman of the word
I wield words and pithy phrases
Each day I practice
For I want to write
I want to write of life’s wild passions
The pinnacle heights of love’s orgasmic union
The yawning caverns of love’s defeat
I want to write profound and deep
I want to write of journeys of exotic discovery
Exploring inner depths of soul
Mine my shadow’s hidden glaciers
I want to write words of reflective gold
I want to write of philosophies
Of ideologies and beliefs
Of God and gods
I want to write succinct and terse
Yet perhaps
As swordsman of the word
My task is humbly to record
The chinks un-noticed by most
Those silent, fleeting openings
That make up our humanity
The coffee served with warming smile
In café’s busy rushing hour
The child hand of trust
Held in mother’s loving care
The dog who sits in faithful serenity
While owner consumes the paper in fretful nervousness
The look of fear that easily masked
The look of love in shadow’s hid
The silence behind the spoken word
The things left out and never heard
So perhaps I’ll forgo the passion
The journey’s of discovery
I’ll skip philosophies and theologies
I’ll write of ephemeral things
That make up our humanity

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