On the brink
Stream of Consciousness Poem - inspiration, motivation!
As I stand, stand, stand on the brink of
somewhere between full throttle breakneck disaster
and bust-erecting full potential breaching success
I look to the cloud-covered skies for guidance
guidance and direction, motivation and creative
yes, creative inspiration, but alas, the waters
had run dry, so I looked to the green of the land
the land, though lush and dense with forest
forest, wood, ben and brae
gave me no hearty words, no linguistic flurry of glorious proportions
So, I looked inward, past sinew, bone, flesh and beyond phallic structures
to the very soul of me
is that not the joy of the ink to parchment art?
to bare one's soul, as an open exhibition?
the fanciful, the fury
the failure, the fortune
for all to prick, prod, probe and excavate for priceless nuggets
of gold from my dripping synapses
for as long as my heart pumps blood through my veins to my arteries and well, everywhere
and my lungs inhale and exhale the life-essential oxygen
the words will come forth from my hands to your eyes
read them, mark them, bookmark them
posterise them and celebrate them
vilify and venerate them
herald them and scowl at them
despised or loved
derided and detested
adored and respected
does it all feel the same?
influence, inspiration, indelible mark on all creation
what's my station, what's my station?
wide-mouthed celebratory elation, wide-eyed dilation
what's my vocation, what's my vocation?
guilty as charged officer, for not giving a crap
no time for deliberation, procrastination
guilty, judge, the man is guilty, gavel tap tap
this is a gentle reminder, for anyone, who needs it
a full-force call-to-action, plea for something; it
the foundations won't rock, shiver and rumble
if we don't make a mess
the pillars won't drop, crumble to rubble,
if we don't cause some stress
*
Thanks for reading!
Author's Notes: Two SoC poems that felt better together. Could be considered part of an unofficial collection that includes "Venit Vidit Vicit", "Paint Me!" and "too damn sloppy", links below. Inspiration, motivation - take from it what you want or just celebrate/comdemn the audacity of it all!
Here are some other things:
About the Creator
Paul Stewart
Scottish-Italian poet/writer from Glasgow.
Overflowing in English language torture and word abuse.
"Every man has a sane spot somewhere" R.L Stevenson
The Accidental Poet - Poetry Collection is now available!
https://paulspoeticprints.etsy.com
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Comments (10)
Love the frenetic pace of this… I just hope you don’t explode!😳 Really like: ‘ I look to the cloud-covered skies for guidance… so I looked to the green of the land… So, I looked inward, past sinew, bone, flesh and beyond phallic structures to the very soul of me…’
Intriguing work Paul!! 😊👍
"guilty as charged officer, for not giving a crap" I loved this line the most hehehehehe. This was an awesomeeee Paulitical poem! 🍩🥐
Brilliant, Sir! The repition wasa great touch, and the message is both clear and important. Take a bow!
This is EPIC - feels like an anthem! I could feel the music swelling with it as I read along; really great work Paul!!
NICE!
Fantastic SOC! And I love the word, sinew, so that was a sprinkle of happy in there :)
You are a true original, Paul. Scottish lyricism harnessing Italian passion. This was an absolute joy to read!
Really struck by the repeated phrases “what’s my station?” and “what’s my vocation?” As usual, you’ve created a well crafted vessel for sailing the stream!
Stream of consciousness is a great way to let things out, always think taraNtula is a great example. Excellent work Paul