circles the poet
birds of inspiration dance circles around the poet
I'm not sure what I'm doing. Do you see what I see? Lipstick on a pig. Achievements never looked good on me. A million awards but the presentation is tainted. Painted talons are still sharp. A soft mouse still a pest. A spider with cute eyes still with eight spiny legs. Do you see what I see?
I trifle a little. A little too much, a little too hard. A little too less, a little too soft. I want to see something bright. But how could I ask for brightness when I'm stained black? My hands are tentacles with no use for writing, because why would an octopus ever pick up a pen? I'm a squid using my own ink, draining myself slowly, just to have something to show.
But what do I do when it runs dry?
Do you see what I see?
I'm wavering. Fluttering. Quick, come. Quick, leave. I'm fleeting. The stories come and they leave so quickly. Do you hear them? Are they watching? They circle around me, tease and pry, and once I've a hint of them, they flash goodbye.
Grab a wing and hang on tighter. A little more ink is nothing for this.
I'd bleed for it.
Grab on, let's dance.
Are you afraid of the trance?
Let's go.
Pick up your things and let's take on the chance! We can't miss this cataclysmic romance! Up and away, you and I, perchance! Here we go, advance, advance!
Up, up, up, to the tippy top we crawl! There's blood on our knees, but we can't stand the fall! Get up, get up! We cry and we crack. Their wings flutter us around and we're on our backs!
I can almost touch the feathers! The wisps in the air! Do you hear them calling? Bird laughs, debonair!
Cry and call! Let me see it all! What's the story? What's the scoop? If you tell me, I might just not shoot!
But they're gone and they go, and I'm left all alone, a couple of feathers and some ink spills for show... But no beautiful patterns, no tales of truth... If I could I would catch you, skin you and wrath you, just to tell a great beaut...
A/N: I'm not exactly sure what this is. A mix of a lot of things, surely. It's late (or early, depending on how you look at it), and it was something that came to mind. A half-finished idea, likely (or a few). I thought I would share it.
♡ ♡ ♡ Belle ♡ ♡ ♡
About the Creator
Belle
I host unofficial challenges and enjoy writing microfiction and poetry.
ALL EYES ON RAFAH. 35k+ murdered in Palestine. 80k+ injured. 25k orphaned. ~10k missing/under rubble.
Top Stories:
2023 - SEPT
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Reader insights
Outstanding
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
Top insights
Excellent storytelling
Original narrative & well developed characters
Eye opening
Niche topic & fresh perspectives
Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions
Comments (9)
Exceptionally wonderful, madness and freedom mixed with the birds, Love love love the madness of it all. Fantastic.
Fascinating! The tortured writer's life comes through, all aches and inky splashes. To at once be the bait and the baited, waiting (perchance with baited breath?) for twisted thoughts to materialize, how perilous indeed. How hard it often is when the word well dries. Having to use one's own blood/ink to pen the story, oh I know that ache. All too often ideas visit us while, at their depths, they remain illusive, ephemeral and infuriating. Terrific job capturing the tango!
VERY GOOD
mesmerizing
Whatever it is, I love it! Following our inner divine is priceless ❣️
Oooo, I learned two new words, cataclysmic and debonair! My favourite part was the octopus one.
Nice read!
Excellent poetry.
Love the image, and don't know if that inspired your stream of consciousness or vice versa, but I really enjoyed this