This Is Me Without Creativity


This Is Me Without Creativity 

This is but me without my creativity. My unwillingness to accept that not all days can be filled with perfect brevity. That some days come buried in the not so extraordinary. Where imagination is no longer merry, where my words seem to fall weary. Where I cannot seem to connect my soul to my brain. In a place that I have lost what was once perfect aim. Where words would connect without the a tongue that wishes to complain.

This is me without the ability to tame. The ability to connect words that may make one seem insane. But that is where I find words that never sound the same. Where words collide in whirls like tornadoes that are looking to claim.

I am not a writer for fame, but a writer to stay insane. To connect words that make me never wish to be plain. To never fall in the sewers of blame and become a dim candle in a forgotten home.

This is me without the perfect tone, without the perfection of my fingers laced in chrome. Where I conquer the pages that lay before my eyes like Rome. Where I foam with words that would never leave a single soul alone.

This I cannot make without shame upon my name. For this is nothing but something I wish to disclaim. To toss to the flames of my broken acclaim. Today I am but a broken writer, a blur of what I were.

For no dragons, ghosts, or love, finds amber upon these words. This I know will create no stir, but leave boredum upon walls like hunters antlers. I am no banker of words but I should never find a shortage to slur.

What am I without the rhyming of my heart and the ability to consume the soul with rigor creation of words?

This is me without my creativity, without my truthful ability. Leave me to the archer, split my armor and cast me to the open sea. Let be but a floating log taken by the waves with no vision of destiny. Sailing with no sails but praying for an anchor.

For I am nothing without the stories I tell in the spindling of my fingers upon keys.

For this is me, without my creativity.

Thank you for reading!

 When has creativity left you abandoned? 

 If you enjoy my writings, then you will enjoy A Man's Traveled Heart

Follow me on Facebook

Follow me on Twitter @poemjunkybiffle
Location: Everett, WA, USA

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Image
  Step Out! Out, Out from the gloom, The obscure breath of doubt Take stone, break thy yoke, Let trouble fall, let shoulders be lifted, Flow, to the heavens Be but strain no more, Open wide, thy mouth, Let prayer fill thy tongue Be parched no more. Stillness in heart  Though seas roar like lions, And beast snarl among mist, Step,  Out! To mercy of life, Ease, be reborn. Let no shackle of past Be meaning for tear Take hammer,  Fracture the cumbersome Be feet of swift Fill your days with strides, Though dunes widen And heat scorches thy soles. Out, Step out from thy fear, There is another to call To breach, To reach your heart  Though thee be of man, Let not thy eyes of flesh Be the dealings of truth, Wander, In aspect to be whole Be not the coward hidden in cave, A creature curled  Like frightened doe, For he walks beside thee, Like king among his men, A sword of greatness Sways from his belt, Ready, To swing against thy enemies, A presence more bold  T...
Read more

I Had Forgotten

Image
 I Had Forgotten     Red smoke plumes in the air. A brilliant, yet daunting sky of clouded crimson thickens the sky in sheets of billowed cotton. It rises with no sense to stop. The atmosphere frightens, yet heightens the senses with a strange tingle of pleasure.  We are losing our homes to the natural order. Yet I am not taken by tears, but by an odd joy of entertainment. For too long have I adhered myself to these pieces of physical wealth. Yes, through struggle, persistence and consistent efforts I have dawned myself with such rewards.  But for too long now, I have forgotten the path I had been taken. I had forgotten the many beads of sweat I spewed from the exhaustion to gain such things. I had forgotten the lonely misery I had fought. I forgotten the friends that lifted me, the moments that tore me down only to bring me higher.   I had forgotten the delicacy of a flower. The aromas of nature the beauty within myself and the beauty so n...
Read more