stanza (Remove filter)
This is not a draft
I donβt want to mask my poetry
I want you to understand me
Curse your perfect rhythms, rhymes, haikus
Your lyricism, your literary
When I try to adopt it, I turn mute.
Something channels through me
(Iβve never really found the root)
A demanding stream of consciousness
That cannot stop to breathe, let alone
Wait, conceptualise, draft, redraft
I canβt!
...
Monday 7th October 2024 10:25 pm
Recent Comments
Auracle on Away from the World
20 minutes ago
LEON STOLGARD on Away from the World
1 hour ago
Graham Sherwood on Drifting
1 hour ago
LEON STOLGARD on Farewell, Your MAGAsty!
1 hour ago
Alexandra Parapadakis on My chest hurts
1 hour ago
LEON STOLGARD on Forgive me for asking
1 hour ago
LEON STOLGARD on ISUPPORTGENOCIDEACTIONIOPPOSEPALESTINEACTION
1 hour ago
LEON STOLGARD on Doesn't say Quack Quack, she says Kwak Kwak
3 hours ago
Uilleam Γ Ceallaigh on I.D.F.
3 hours ago
Uilleam Γ Ceallaigh on Forgive me for asking
3 hours ago